A Short Guide to Marauding
by Mireille
Summary: Here is a tale of MWPP as they have begun existing to me. Sirius is a screwball, Remus is a golden boy, James is an endearing jerk, Peter is number four, and this is their seventh year. [COMPLETE] (and freshly edited - 52203)
1. Halloween Eve

Chapter 1 – Halloween Eve

Requisite Author's Note: This is the same story that it's always been. I have merely changed a few things that, a year later, strike me as not quite sound writing, and I also eliminated those annoying author's notes. Okay, almost all of them. I still love this story and I still keep hoping that someday more than five people will read it. I hope you are number six.

Requisite Disclaimer: I did not make any of these characters up. I just found out one day what they looked like, and I sat down to write about them. This is the result. I do not claim to know how this happened or if, in fact, it will ever happen again. Enjoy, and don't sue because this isn't making me a penny.

* * *

Sirius was sitting at a table in the common room, smiling bright as his namesake at no one in particular.

"What is it, Sirius?  You finally get a girl to talk to you?" Remus wanted to know.

"Better.  I just aced my Potions test," he said dreamily.

"But we only just took it – oh, never mind."

Sirius had a mammoth crush on Professor Paquerette and the entire student body knew about it, including, Remus sometimes suspected, the professor herself.  Why else give her star student detention, even if he did have an odd sense of humor when it came to potion ingredients?  Remus smiled involuntarily as he remembered the previous week's Potions incident.  Sirius had used a series of ingenious charms to make his desiccated mayflys hover around Snape's head and refuse to be shooed away.  Finally Snape had been forced to squish them by hand (they were somehow impervious to Snape's spells – Remus reminded himself to wiggle that useful little charm out of Sirius).  All four of them had been dangerously close to strangling on their own laughter.

Sirius was looking sulky, and with good reason.  When Remus smiled the way he did, half the girls in the common room sighed.  He was good-looking, endlessly charming and had a reputation as a man of mystery since he refused to date, deeming lycanthropy too dangerous to indulge in moonlit tête-á-têtes.  In his early twenties, when the glasses, the braces and the stigma were gone, Sirius would earn the reputation of being something of a ladies' man.  But now, in their seventh year, Remus had the valentine cards and the admiring looks and the envy of every Gryffindor male.  And to everyone's continual astonishment, he didn't seem to notice.

"Don't _do_ that," Sirius said grouchily.

"What?"

"Smile."

"Well, it was funny," Remus said defensively.

"I know," Sirius said, without any idea what Remus thought was so amusing.  "But none of the girls can get any work done when you smile like that.  I don't think they appreciate it very much."

"Sirius, you're such a kidder," Remus said lightly.  "I wish I could think up stuff like you do."

_How does he do that?_ Sirius wondered.  _He can make anyone feel like someone._  Sirius wished to be a girl for a fleeting second, just to see if Remus would make as good a boyfriend as he did a best friend.  Not that his bread was buttered that way, but still.

"It's five till six, Sirius," Remus said.  "We'd better get down to supper.  I hear the house-elves have orange marshmallow cake for dessert."

Remus hadn't been through the secret kitchen entrance for two days, as far as Sirius knew.  Once again, he wondered how Remus did it.  It was magic the like of which Sirius had never even seen in Potions class.  

James and Peter were already there, the two empty seats across from them clearly meant for Remus and Sirius.  They took them and, under cover of the usual dinnertime clangor, James brought up the subject of their plans for the evening.

"Sirius, Peter and I decided we'd better leave as soon as possible after supper's over."

"What?"  Sirius looked highly disappointed.  "I'd planned on spending the evening trying some new combinations.  I think I've finally found the key ingredient –"

"Not tonight!" James hissed.  "Honestly, were you even paying attention when we discussed this?  Peter and I need your help, so we can get everything out in one trip."

"Why can't Remus stay in the Shrieking Shack tonight of all nights?" Sirius whined.  "When all I'm trying to do is control the problem in the first place…"

"You explain," James snapped at Peter.  "I am so sick of this."

"It's the night before Halloween, Sirius," Peter said.  "Everyone in Hogsmeade is celebrating already, and you know they like to dare each other to go into the Shrieking Shack."  
  


"Among other things," Remus muttered.

"Imagine them meeting – er, a particularly violent spirit or something."  Peter glanced perfunctorily around the table; in public, they either avoided the subject or called upon their vast vocabulary of euphemisms.

"Oh, that's right, I almost forgot about Halloween, seeing as how we can't even go."

All four of them flinched as Sirius realized too late what he'd said.  "Oh, God, I'm sorry, I really don't mind."

"I told you you could go," Remus said.  "I don't need you guys hanging around outside the door to keep an eye on me.  Listen, go tonight after you're done bringing the stuff.  I can lock myself in and cast the spells and all that."

"We'd better go," Sirius interrupted, "else it'll look really suspicious, being the only seventh-years who don't go.  We have a reputation at stake here, gentlemen."

James jutted out his jaw the way he did when arguing questions of morality.  "In case you've forgotten, we also have a responsibility to Remus."

"Sirius is right," Remus said with such quiet conviction that the others conceded without an argument.  This was, after all, his territory.

"Then we leave after supper," James said.  "Sirius, you and I will get the furniture, and Peter can take the books.  Anything else you left in there, Remus?"

"No, that should be it," Remus said.  And with hardly a pause, the four began discussing that night's party and which of them was most likely to end up sprawled in a ditch somewhere.  (The vote was solidly for Sirius.)

James, Peter and Sirius left inconspicuously and together at the end of dinner, which left Remus an hour and a half to be at Moaning Myrtle's.  He decided to make himself scarce, not having thought up a convincing enough excuse for this month's absence.  It would have to be a doozy to explain his missing the infamous Halloween Eve party.  Remus thought he might have another great-aunt die; he hadn't used that excuse in nearly a year.  With that taken care of, Remus headed for the dungeons to wander for a while.  The dungeons held a strange fascination for him that he had never mentioned to his friends.  Somehow, he didn't think they'd understand.

The corridors were poorly lit; several times Remus nearly tripped over a loose stone.  But when he finally did trip, sprawling full length on the chill floor, an irritable voice came from the darkness.

"Watch where you're going, twinkletoes."

Remus stood up carefully and lit his wand.  Rob Avery and Lily Evans looked quite comfortable in their corner.

"The Astronomy Tower finally fall over?" Remus said conversationally.

"I forgot it was Tuesday."  Avery looked somewhat abashed.

"Of course.  The ickle firsties have enough nasty surprises in store for them as it is."  Remus smirked.  "Well, I'm on my way."

Fifteen minutes later, Lily Evans caught up with him on his third circuit of the dungeons.  

"How'd you know about Tuesday?"  Lily tilted her head up to look at Remus and he realized that she wasn't really pretty at all, at least not in the classical sense.  But she had an indefinable something that made beauty suddenly superfluous.  "Everyone knows you aren't the type to know about that sort of thing."

"What sort of thing?  What day of the week it is?"

"You know what I mean."  She stopped walking and turned to see if he did, and for that instant Remus forgot how to breathe.  If he ever had known before then.

"Oh yeah?"

Any other night of the month, he would never have dreamed of touching Lily Evans.  Well, maybe dreamed, but the delicate network of inhibitions Remus had rigged for himself was out for the count.  He kissed her, and worse yet, Lily didn't seem to mind at all.

"Shit!" he yelled, leaping away like a startled deer.  "Lily, I am so sorry."

"For _what_?" she demanded.  "You kiss me better than any man alive and you have to apologize for it?"

He turned and sprinted down the corridor away from her.  "You don't mean that," he yelled back.  "I'm just a sheep in wolf's clothing."

"It's the other way around, sweetheart," she yelled, but she wasn't sure he heard.

* * *

While Remus was locked in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, his howls deadened by several well-placed Silencing Charms, James and Sirius and Peter were roaming around Hogsmeade, thoroughly enjoying themselves.  They all carried a tankard, some of which contained butterbeer and some of which did not.

James hoisted his and proposed a toast.  "To all the creepy, disgusting, bloodcurdling things that walk the earth."

They drank to it enthusiastically.

"Gentlemen, we are all three quite drunk," Peter proclaimed.  He tended to become grandiose at such times, imagining that he was a well-to-do baron indulging in a few with his closest friends.  "Shall we not return to the castle?  A game of cards, perhaps…"

"Peter," said Sirius, trying to match his style, "you are singularly boring at times, you know that?"

"I'm with Sirius," James said, stumbling over his friend's name.  "We stay."

Peter looked ready to ditch his sodden eloquence for more convincing terms, but their attention was suddenly and completely diverted by the appearance of Severus Snape.

James strode up to Snape and slung an arm about the other boy's shoulders.  Snape shrugged off the touch with a look of loathing.  Ever since their near-death encounter the year before, James had been publicly and perversely friendly to Snape, an attitude which had Remus's tacit approval.  Snape's continual rejections of these overtures were understandable, but had the added value of making Snape look very bad and James, by contrast, very good.  Snape knew it and it only added to his resentment.

"You're drunk," Snape said, somewhat unnecessarily.  Peter was sitting on the ground, head in his hands, fighting a wave of nausea, and Sirius and James were swaying in unison.

"Yeah, we were just toasting you," James said with a slovenly smirk.  "Wait'll you hear what I said… Peter, what'd I say?"  
  


"For the love of God, stop yelling," he groaned.

"And that's what I think of you, my sl – my slith – oh, to hell with it."  James let loose a monumental belch, and he and Sirius giggled like girls on the phone.

Snape made to leave, thoroughly revolted, and Sirius yelled, "I have something to say to you, you spineless salamander!"  By the time he got the last two words out, Snape was well away, but Sirius kept yelling.

"You think you're so great at Potions, but I've got you beat!  I've got this new potion, see, and it's going to make me a million Galleons and I'll be in every newspaper there is!"

Snape had stopped and was listening attentively.

Sirius remarked parenthetically to James, "Too bad I don't know how to make it yet."

Snape was gone.

Later on, they agreed that maybe Sirius shouldn't have mentioned his potion, with the exception of Sirius.

When they were all capable of walking again, they did.  None of them had any idea where they were, but all it took to get back into the village was a little dumb luck, which all three of them had in abundance.

They were walking down the main street, just sober enough to think of heading back, when someone leaped onto James.  He thought Snape was attacking him until she let him go just as quickly.

"Shit," Lily said.  "You're not him."  And ran off.

Had Remus been there, he might have pointed out Lily's grave grammatical error.  But, all things considered, it was probably better that he wasn't.

"Sirius," said James.  "Find out from Lily who she's looking for, and how he can possibly be better than me."

Sirius sighed; James was clearly in one of those moods.  "So you can beat the crap out of him, right?"

"So I can make a Polyjuice Potion."  James grinned.

Without another word, Sirius went after Lily, although he knew very well that if James wanted Polyjuice Potion, he would not be making it himself.  Oh no, Sirius would.  That was one of the perils of befriending the supremely self-assured Quidditch captain.

Sirius found Lily slumped against a building not too far down, looking severely depressed.  When she saw him, she wailed, "Oh, Sirius!" and burst into tears.

Sirius held her as she cried, thinking bitterly that girls never saw him as anything but a trusted confidante.  Merlin's sake, did he _look_ like a walking handkerchief?

"That's the last time I mix butterbeer with Pepper-Up Potion," Lily said, still crying.  "Samantha told me they'd just cancel each other out.  Did you ever try mixing depressants and stimulants, Sirius?"

He certainly had not.  "I stick to the depressants," Sirius said, patting her hair comfortingly.  "They cheer me up."

"Poor guy."  Lily smiled up at him, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.  Sirius offered her a handkerchief, which she accepted gratefully.  "Was it you I was looking for earlier?"

In that second he wanted to say yes like he'd never wanted anything before, but he recognized the feeling as alcohol lingering in his system.  Not to mention the fact that James would personally curse him within an inch of his life.  So he said, "I don't think so, but I need to know who it was."

Lily squinched her eyes shut, trying to think.  It made her look, Sirius thought adoringly, like a newborn mouse.  "You know, I really can't remember.  He was an incredible kisser, though.  It was like amazing."

Prudently setting aside his raging jealousy, Sirius asked helpfully, "Do you remember where you were?"

"The dungeons," Lily answered.

"The dungeons?  That sounds like Snape," Sirius said without even thinking.

"Was it Snape?  Oh, thank you, Sirius, you've been such a sweetie."  Lily kissed him on the nose and walked off.

Sirius couldn't move and didn't want to.  Either the world was on fire or he was.  She had kissed him!!!  Sirius slumped against the wall, cradling his nose, and decided to peel off the top layer of skin so he could preserve her kiss forever.  He tried several charms, all of which failed, and eventually he decided to invent a potion just for that purpose.  Sirius pulled out his list of potential potion ideas and added it, then set off to find James and Peter.

They were exactly where Sirius had left them.  He walked up behind Peter and said, "Snape."

Peter jumped, nearly out of his robes.  He whipped out his wand and went into the defensive position before recognizing Sirius.  "Oh, you're not him," Peter said, relaxing marginally.  "You want me to fix that nose for you?"

"What'd I do to it?" Sirius wailed, prodding his nose.  Lily's kiss contaminated!

"Please, Sirius," James said.  "You can obsess about your nose _later."_

* * *

Two days later, when Remus was sane enough to resume his place in society, the other three told him their Halloween Eve story.  When they had finished, Remus was excessively pale, but this was such a regular symptom of his transformation that none of them remarked it.

After a minute, Remus recovered himself and, in his usual incisive manner, went straight to the most urgent matter.

"Sirius," he said, "what in hell did you do to your nose?"  It was still noticeably purple.

Sirius flushed and retorted, "Nothing."

"What are you all staring at me for?" Remus snapped.  His monthly bouts of irritability were almost as bad as the girls'.  "The fur's all gone, okay?  What, d'you want me to solve all your problems for you?"

"If you could get me a few years to work on my potions, that'd be great," Sirius said.

"Just get me Lily," James said.

"That would be nice," Peter said, and tittered to himself about something.

Remus sighed.  "I gotta think about it for a while.  I'm not a magician, you know."

"Well," Sirius said.

"Oh, shut up."

Remus stomped out of the room, and almost collapsed from the effort.  He was still more than a bit weak from the transformation, he decided as he leaned gasping against the wall.  In this condition, his only two choices were the library or the infirmary, and the latter was decidedly not conducive to thought.  So he set out for the library, taking liberal rest stops to make sure his lungs were still functioning.  Despite this precaution, Remus collapsed in the fourth-floor corridor, and his last conscious thought was a dim curiosity as to why the floor was so cold.  Freezing Charm, he thought just before he passed out.

Remus awoke to the sensation of something tugging at his ankles. 

"Blast, you're heavy!" came a voice from somewhere around the region of his shoes.

Remus sat up and discovered that the speaker was a two-foot-tall fairy with orange hair wearing a skimpy yellow dress.  She dropped his foot and smiled up at him.

"Hi, I'm Cilantro, your guardian angel," she said.

"Isn't that a spice or something?"

"Oh, a smart one!" she trilled.  "I can tell you're going to be a lot more fun than the last one.  All he ever did was gamble and cheat on his wife."

"And you're my what?"

"Guardian angel, sweetie pie.  I follow you around, make sure you don't kill yourself or anything.  You looked kinda dead for a minute there, so I figured I'd check in.  If I let one more person die on my watch, I'm out of a job, y'know, and you wouldn't believe how few fairies are gainfully employed."

"Where were you when I almost blew myself up a couple weeks ago?" Remus demanded.

"I was shopping," Cilantro said.  "Anyhow you were fine, so what's your beef?"

"Sweet Merlin," Remus muttered.  "My life is in the hands of a delinquent fairy.  Say, how come I didn't get a real angel?"

"Humans get first dibs on them," she said matter-of-factly.  "Werewolves get what's left, which in this case means me."

"Even the Maker discriminates, huh?" Remus said bitterly.

"C'est la vie, kid."  Cilantro shrugged.  "Well, if you aren't going to die, I saw this really adorable dress six months ago, and I still haven't gotten over not buying it."

She had turned to go when Remus said, "Wait…"

"Yeah?"

"Do you know any genies?"

"Well, I met one once."  She made a face.  "Briefly.  Why, d'you need a wish or something?"

"Several," he admitted.

"Don't we all.  I could get you a genie if you had about a century to spare, but doxies come a lot quicker."

"What's a doxy?  I never took CMC."  Because, Remus didn't add, he was, legally and practically, a magical creature himself.

"Second cousin to genies.  The only real difference is doxies tend to live in thimbles and matchboxes and that sort of thing.  Of course, you only get one wish, and that you have to pay for somehow."

"Pay for?  I'm a bit short on gold right now."

"Oh, not with money," she said impatiently.  "Doxies aren't so easygoing as genies.  Inbred, if you ask me.  They'll grant your wish, all right, but there's always a catch.  When they give, they take something else away."

"Oh," was all Remus said.

"And let me tell you, doxies aren't terribly patient.  There's no way of knowing when it'll visit you, not at night or anything, but when it does, have your wish ready.  A doxy isn't like to wait around while you dilly-dally."

Something Cilantro had said suggested a rather squirmy thought to Remus.  "Er – you're on duty all the time, then?"

"Supposed to be.  But we need our shut-eye too.  That's why people die in their sleep like that."

Remus tried, but there was really no better way to ask.  "Do you even watch people in the bathroom and stuff?"

"People die in the bathroom too, y'know."  She winked cheekily at him.  "But if that's what you're worried about, none of us are perverts.  We go through _very_ thorough background checks.  Well, I'll be seeing you.  Later, if you stay out of trouble."  Cilantro darted off, leaving Remus with the disturbing feeling that she hadn't answered his question properly.

He rather thought he'd be sleeping in his clothes that night.

Because he didn't have enough energy to move, Remus continued to sit there, thinking with his eyes closed.  When he woke up, he knew what his wish would be.

Remus went slowly and carefully back to the common room.  He hoisted himself through the portrait hole and spotted Sirius snoozing on a couch near the fireplace.  His head was leaning back at an absurd angle, and his mouth was wide open.  Several firsties were clustered around him, snickering silently; one of them held a quill magically suspended over Sirius's mouth.  Remus plucked the quill out of the air and snapped it in half, with a look that spoke eloquently of antiquated torture spells and pain.  The firsties scattered.

Remus settled down next to Sirius and promptly fell back asleep.  When he awoke, his head was lolling on Sirius's shoulder, and Sirius was sitting rigidly so as not to disturb him.

"Yurgh," said Remus.  "Sweet Merlin," he added, waking up a bit.  "Did I drool on you?  I'm really sorry."  He swiped uselessly at Sirius's shoulder.

"Oh, well, what's a spot of drool among friends."

"Sirius," began Remus, putting his head back on Sirius's shoulder to avoid his eyes.  Unaccountably, Sirius smirked, though Remus couldn't have known that.  "Would you be mortally offended if I got a wish and didn't use it for you?"

"Oh, I wouldn't expect you to," Sirius reassured him.  "Say, how're you getting a wish anyway?"

"Er – well," Remus squirmed, "I sort of met my guardian angel and she –"

"_Lord God Almighty!"_ Sirius bellowed, thereby gaining the attention of the entire common room.  "No problems here, just keep working," he addressed the room sheepishly.  "Remus," he continued in a whisper, "what on earth happened to you?!"

"Nothing much, I just passed out, it wasn't a big deal, people meet their guardian angels every day…"

"None of _us_ have!" Sirius hissed.

"Has," Remus said absently.

_"No we haven't!"_

"I'm just correcting your grammar, Sirius."

"Oh."  Sirius thought about that.  "So what was she like?" he asked finally.

"Sort of strange.  Actually, she was a fairy."

Sirius looked thoughtful.  "I wonder if I got a fairy too."

"No, you're human, I expect you have a real angel," Remus said somewhat bitterly.

"But you – _oh_.  I could trade with you," he offered.

"I don't even know what kind of angel you have, Sirius," he said reasonably.  "For all I know, you have some kind of angelic slacker watching over you."

Sirius looked offended.  "I am still alive, aren't I?"

"Besides, you don't want Cilantro," Remus said hastily.  "She seems like a real airhead.  She even said guardian angels sleep at night sometimes when they're supposed to be on duty."

"Well, that's that," Sirius said firmly.  "I'm never sleeping again."

Remus didn't have the heart to tell him the rest of it, so he didn't.  Some things you were better off not knowing.

* * *

The first Quidditch game of the season took place on a windy Saturday in November.  Remus sat by himself in the Gryffindor stands; James and Peter were both starting Chasers, and Sirius was the water boy.  From where Remus sat, he could see Sirius on the bench, holding the water bucket on his lap and taking frequent sips from his coffee cup, which he'd gotten from the kitchen at four o'clock that morning.  Ever since Remus had told him about guardian angels, Sirius had been sleeping about four hours a night and constantly napping during History of Magic to make up for it.

"Remus!"

He turned around and saw Lily waving at him.  His heart tried to leap and sink at the same time, and ended up doing an odd little pirouette instead.

"Come sit up here with us!"

_Not coming would look suspicious_, Remus reasoned as he walked up to her row.  _Besides, she doesn't even remember about me.  She thinks it was Snape_.

_So why isn't she sitting over in the Slytherin section with him?_

"You looked kind of lonely," Lily said, smiling at him.  He found he couldn't look directly at her smile.  It made him feel like an orange Popsicle sitting in the sun.  Her eyes didn't help, either.  "You're just lucky to have all your friends on the team."

"All except Sirius," said Remus hastily.  "He's just the Gryffindor gofer and wannabe tactical advisor."  That was the greatest thing he'd ever said, because it made Lily laugh, and it sounded like something really gorgeous, he couldn't quite think what.  

Remus realized that it would probably be a long game, but probably still not long enough.

Luckily, the game started, which gave Remus something far more important to think about.  But he was sharing his Omnioculars with Lily, which he thought might have been the greatest happiness the earth had to offer.  He even missed a play handing them back to Lily, which in any other circumstances would have been inexcusable.

Gryffindor was leading fifty to twenty and Slytherin had just scored another goal when Remus saw a flash of white through the lenses.  He focused in on it and caught a circular glimmer like a halo, and realized it was diving straight for the bench.

"Sirius!" he howled, pelting out of the stands, thinking only that if Sirius died, he would have to come too.

When Remus reached Sirius, he was shaking his wet black curls in annoyance.

"I was having this dream, okay," he said.  "I was at this awards ceremony, and I was walking across the stage to give my speech and all of a sudden I realized my robes –"  He stopped.  "What're you gawping at?"

"You almost drown in a bucket of water and all you care about is your bloody dream?  You are _such_ an idiot," Remus said, highly relieved.

"Yeah, I felt someone yanking up on my head and I thought, what a drip.  Was that you?"

"No, you fool, that was your guardian angel.  See?"  Remus handed him the Omnioculars.  Sirius looked and yelped with delight.

"See, she isn't a bum!  Praise the Lord, now I can get some sleep."

"Wait," Remus said quickly.  "In the dream – what about your, uh…"

"My robes?  Oh, they were made of Saran Wrap."

The entire Gryffindor team landed on the ground and James yelled, "What the devil is going on, water boy?"

"It was the colored kind!" Sirius howled.  "And I had on those godawful smiley face boxers…"

"Did I waste a timeout on _this_?" James snapped.

"I think he's through dying now, yes," Remus said coolly.  Sirius was curled up on the ground asleep.

"Fine.  You're in charge."  James and the Gryffindor team took off, leaving Remus with the unenviable task of dragging Sirius up to the dormitories.  He missed Gryffindor's spectacular game-winning capture of the Golden Snitch, but he got back in time to douse James and Peter with Sirius's bucket of water and help levitate the winning team all the way back up to the common room for the traditional post-victory bash.

Normally, it would have been Sirius's job to get the refreshments, so Remus made a quick trip to the kitchen and another one to the cache of Honeydukes delicacies they kept for just such an emergency.  When he returned, James and Lily and Peter were standing together.  Judging by the intensity of James's expression and the pictures he was drawing with his hands, the Quidditch game was being resuscitated in all its glory for Lily.  Remus was tempted to sneak away, but James caught sight of him and Lily waved him over, smiling.  Reluctantly, he joined them.

"…And I yanked Sirius's head out of the bucket like _that_."  James rescued a fictional Sirius while Lily watched and Peter ate.  "He thanked me and would you believe it, he went right to sleep.  Luckily, it didn't hurt our game any."  Lily congratulated them both and James beamed, running his fingers through his hair the way he did when he was feeling self-conscious.  Peter saved them both by acting perfectly normal; he grinned and said, "Thanks, Lily.  D'you want a cream puff?"

She took one, as James turned to Remus and said, "Thanks for filling in for Sirius."

"No problem," he said, aware that this was a show for Lily's benefit and he was an extra.

"He won't be too happy about missing the party, though," James said, and they all laughed.

Perhaps tiring of Quidditch, Lily changed the subject with a question of her own.  "So what are you guys planning to do after Hogwarts?"

"Play Quidditch," James said immediately.  "I've got a few tryouts this summer, so we'll see how that goes."

"I want to be an Auror," Peter said.  "Have since I was a kid.  I'm going to take the test pretty soon, and hopefully I'll get in."

"How about you, Remus?" Lily asked.

"Me?  I hadn't thought about it.  Get a job, I guess."

"Whatever you do, you'll be great."  It was exactly what everyone said to everyone else, but she was looking at him like she'd invented it fresh for him, or wished she had.  Entirely against his will, Remus went slightly red as he wondered if he'd remember that all his life, and if she might remember him.  He felt suddenly as though he was flying over the ocean, and had an unexplainable desire to let go.

"Thanks," he said.  "Listen, I'm going to go see if Sirius is okay, you know, breathing and all that, so I can stop worrying."

He left and James looked after him, a small frown creasing his otherwise perfect forehead.  "Has Remus always been this protective of Sirius?"

"Yes," Peter said.  "Why d'you ask?"

"It just seems a little strange, is all," James said.

Peter smirked.  "So what are you implying?"

"Please," Lily said.  "I'm sure Remus is as straight as an arrow."  Why she thought so, she didn't say.

* * *

Monday the Gryffindors were in Transfiguration trying to transform one another into animals.  Our four protagonists thought this was the best joke of the year.  James, Sirius and Peter were occupied with turning one another into amusing or obscure animals.  (Sirius was currently a blue-footed booby, which met both requirements admirably.)  Remus was sitting a little to one side, swinging his feet and daydreaming.  He was not allowed to participate because, as McGonagall had informed him, "things could go very badly wrong."  Remus had been tempted to point out that some of his classmates were far more likely to make things go badly wrong, but he refrained so as to avoid mention of his "condition."  That word always made him feel as though he should be climbing the walls of St. Mungo's.  Fortunately he was distracted from this line of thought when a doxy flew in the window and announced, "I have business with Mister Remus Lupin."

The entire class looked up to stare at the new arrival, who resembled nothing so much as an oversized pink-and-green-striped bumblebee with nearly human features.  "What're you rugrats staring at, huh?" it demanded.

"Professor," Remus interrupted smoothly, rising to his feet, "would you mind if we took care of this outside?"

"Actually, I'd prefer it," she said faintly.

Remus went for the door, not sparing a glance for the doxy or his friends.  When they were both outside and the door shut, the doxy said, "Make it quick.  I have to be in Aberdeen in ten minutes and let me tell you, it has been the devil to pay already this morning, literally.  Some asshole wants to get into heaven, but considering the sacrifice, it won't be worth it."

"My wish," Remus said, "is that Lily Evans and James Potter be in love for the rest of their lives."

"You mean it isn't for you?"  The doxy looked genuinely astonished.  "Don't you want anything?"

"I want a lot of things," Remus said evenly.  "None of them is worth your time."

"Almost no one thinks that, you know," the doxy said.  "I'll try to cut you some slack here, okay, but really you don't know what you're asking.  Those two were never meant to fall in love."

"Why not?"

The doxy sighed.  "You gotta understand, I'm pretty low on the food chain.  I got my orders like everyone else, I got my copy of the book.  It says so, but hanged if I know why."

"What the devil are you going on about?" he said.

"Careful, you don't want to tick him off."  The doxy shivered.  "The book tells everything that ever happened and ever will, but no one can make head or tail of it."

"Really?"  
  


"Yeah, it's total gibberish.  Look at this."  The doxy pulled a copy of their Transfiguration text out of thin air and started thumbing though it.

"So McGonagall wasn't kidding when she said Transfiguration held the secrets of life," Remus said, deeply awed.  "No wonder I can never understand it."

"Here it is."  The doxy held out the book and Remus saw rows and rows of numbers, letters, pound signs, asterisks, and symbols he had never dreamed of.  In the center of the page, in crabbed, slanted handwriting, it said this – _James Potter/Lily Evans: dangerous._

"Okay, they can fall in love," the doxy said.  "And it'll be mind-blowing, but the dangerous kind don't ever live to a hundred twenty, see?"  It looked straight at Remus and said, "That's their price."

Remus hardly paused.  "Do it anyway."

"If you leave things be, you'll all be happy," the doxy said, and Remus knew without asking that it meant him, and Sirius and Peter.

"Will it be worth the price?" Remus asked.

The doxy let its eyes wander into the future.  "Someday, yes."

"Then do it," he said.

"You are truly noble," the doxy said.  "Or maybe not, because you have no idea what you just did."  And flew away.

Remus went back into the classroom.  "I think I just condemned all of us to a bleak and miserable future," he told James.

"You missed the best part," James said.  "We turned Peter into a flying squirrel, and you know how scared he is of heights…"


	2. Potion Making

Chapter 2 – Potion Making

Sirius was in his own little corner of heaven; more specifically, he was in his potions lab.  Professor Paquerette had given him the use of the abandoned workroom the year before, saying, "You have an innate talent for potion making, Sirius."  The memory could still make him smile.  He couldn't recall the exact number of extra-credit potions he'd concocted in here, but the number was astronomical; Sirius had never earned less than 125 percent in Potions class, which everyone thought must be some kind of school record.  But to Sirius, the grade was secondary.  He did what he did because he loved potions and making them more than anything on earth, and he wanted to do exactly that until he died of old age.

Tonight, Sirius had set himself an unusual challenge.  He intended to make a potion that would peel off the top layer of one's skin to preserve a kiss.  (He was well aware that Lily's kiss was long washed away, but this was exactly the type of potion that he could peddle secretly in the halls and earn a considerable profit.)  Making a potion that simulated the effect of a bad sunburn was second-year work.  Making a potion that peeled off an unbroken sheet of skin from one area was approaching artistry.  For instance, such a potion would have to be applied externally, not taken internally as was most often the case, and Sirius had spent an entire weekend researching the subtle differences in composition that this required.  This consideration and a thousand others had occupied his thoughts almost exclusively since Halloween Eve, to the continual astonishment of his less dedicated friends.  Now at last he was ready, he had an entire Friday night to himself while his friends were at the Three Broomsticks, and he could finally treat this problem with the intensity it deserved.

A shadow flicked across the door and he froze.

Sirius's first thought was of the mad stalker demon-ghosts that purportedly roamed the halls after curfew.  So were his second and third.  Then he remembered that James had found a draft of the mad stalker demon-ghost legend in Filch's personal files.  Also, ghosts couldn't cast shadows.

The culprit, then, was corporeal.

Lily?  He dismissed the fantasy immediately.  James had mentioned that she was going to the Broomsticks too.  Often, and loudly.

Snape?  The idea had merit.  He frequently avoided the crowd scene and wasn't likely to be out carousing.  He also, Sirius remembered unbidden, knew about the potion from that other disastrous evening.  Actually, Sirius had been referring to Remus's potion, but quite frankly he considered any of his potions worth stealing.

Sirius pondered his options.  Since Snape and he were equally adept at potion making, he knew that within an hour or so, Snape could produce an accurate list of the ingredients in any potion he might choose to make.  Snape would know on sight any of the more unpleasant potions, in fact was probably better versed on the subject than Sirius himself.  Anything illegal was also out, because Snape would run to the headmaster with it and Sirius would lose his considerable research privileges.

There seemed only one course open to him.

Sirius went ahead with his planned project.  If he was not successful, it wouldn't matter.  If he was, let Snape try to ferret out the formula.  It would at a minimum keep him occupied with something other than tormenting innocent Gryffindors.

Meanwhile, things were getting interesting for his three friends.

The evening had begun normally enough.  James, Remus, Peter and Lily had gotten a table at the Broomsticks, and all of them but Remus had enough butterbeer to get more than a little tipsy.  (Butterbeer was generally the strongest drink Madam Rosmerta would serve students, except of course on Halloween.)  Eventually James asked Lily if she wanted to go back up to the castle with him, and she said yes.  The implication was clear; Remus assumed that they would be exploring the view from the Astronomy tower, one of its many amenities.  Remus was fairly unusual in that he actually visited the Astronomy tower to look at the stars (occasionally being reminded of his relative insignificance reassured him).  However, he tended to avoid it on weekends because the other stargazers were a little distracting.

So he and Peter, having decided that the Broomsticks was getting dull, followed Lily and James up to the castle about fifteen minutes later.  Neither one was surprised when they entered the common room and Lily and James were nowhere to be seen.  They played endless desultory games of cards until James arrived, shortly before midnight.

"So," Peter said, slapping a card to the table.  "How'd it go?"

"I think I screwed up a little," James confessed, sitting down heavily.  "We were going out east, you know, and we went down the wrong corridor –"

"You help write our map and you still get lost going to the tower?" Peter said gleefully.  "That's classic."

"You can't talk," James snapped.  "I didn't notice you going easy on the butterbeer either, pal."

Remus grinned.  "So you help write our map and you –"

"Okay, enough," James said.  "You want to hear the story or not?  So this corridor goes straight to the dungeons, and a light's on in one of the rooms there.  Obviously I know who it is, but Lily doesn't and she goes to look, but she can't see in.  So she asks me who it is, and I tell her and she asks what he's doing.  Then I tell her about your potion –" meaning Remus – "and how hard it is, how long Sirius's spent on it, and she says that sounds like something Snape might want to hear about, seeing how he's into potions too –"

"And what'd you say?" Peter pressed.

James closed his eyes.  "I said something like, 'Whatever makes you happy, sweetheart.' "

"You little shit," Peter said.  "I can't believe you did that.  Now Snape'll be trying to come up with it himself and take all the credit.  You didn't tell her any of what didn't work, I hope."

"I might have mentioned one or two –"

"Sweet Merlin!"

"Really," Remus interrupted, "does it matter who discovers it as long as someone does?"  
  


"I guess not," Peter said.  "What am I saying?  Of course it does.  We Gryffindors have our pride, after all."

"Yes, and that's about all."

"Guys, I feel like a real turd," James said.  "Can we please not tell Sirius any of this?"

"Not tell Sirius any of what?" he said, coming up and taking the last chair.

"Sirius," James said.  "How's the potion coming?"

"What, the one for Remus?  I spent some time on it, but I'm about ready to give up," Sirius sighed.  "The best I can do is make this potion that leaves a shiny coating on whatever it touches.  Look."  Sirius held out his hand.  "I dipped my finger in by accident and the stuff won't come off."

"Merlin's wand!" Remus said, snatching Sirius's hand.  "Is that gold?"

"No holding hands now – good God, it is," James said.

Sirius snatched his hand back.

"You've made a freaking Philosopher's Stone," Peter said reverentially.

"No he hasn't," Remus said.  "This is better."

"We are going to be so incredibly rich," James said.

"_We_?" Sirius said.

"How'd you do that?" Peter demanded.

"Not _here_," Remus said.  "Anyone could hear us and tell Snape or someone."

"Who would?" James said, laughing.

"Lily, for one," Peter snapped.

"What's all this?" Sirius said interestedly.

"Oh, I'll fill you in."

"Let's go up to bed, shall we?" Remus interrupted.

The others agreed without a word, and they made their way toward the dormitories, exchanging goodnights with most of the rest of the common room.  Only when they were alone in their tower-tip dorm, sprawled on their respective beds and protected by an arsenal of privacy spells, did the conversation continue.

"So how did you do it, Sirius?" Remus wanted to know.

Sirius rested his forehead on his folded arms.  "I'm not exactly sure," he said into the covers.

"What d'you mean?"  All of them knew how meticulous Sirius was in keeping records of his experiments; there was a pile of them threatening to swallow his armoire.

"Well, I didn't want Snape to find out what hadn't worked, so I put all my papers in a cupboard and locked it with that magical lock I bought a few months ago, and then I remembered I'd lost the parchment that had its magic word."

"So you know, you just… don't know," Peter said.

"Exactly."

James put his head in his hands too.  "And there's no way to break the lock?"

No one even bothered answering that question.

"Oh, I'm such an idiot," Remus realized.  "If I'm ever this dense again, smack me."

"Why?" Sirius asked, mystified.

"Accio parchment with the magic word on it," Remus said, which made everyone snicker.  However, it ceased to be funny when the parchment failed to arrive.

"Did you throw it away, you fool?" James bellowed.

"Possibly," Sirius muttered.

"Oh, lay off, James," Remus said irritably.  James looked astonished and Sirius grateful.

"Sirius, forget about that potion," Peter said.  "Just work on Remus's so we can show up the Slytherins."

"Yeah," Sirius said.  "Right, I'll work on it tomorrow.  There has to be something I haven't tried."

"Sirius," said Remus carefully, "have you thought that it might not be possible to cure lycanthropy?"

"The idea had occurred to me," Sirius admitted.

"Damn," Remus said emotionally.  "I was hoping you wouldn't say that."

"Yeah," James said, "I mean if a million brainy wizards haven't been able to find it yet –"

"And witches," Remus said.

"Good God, do you want me to kill myself or not?"

"Come on, Sirius," said Remus, alarmed, "don't joke about stuff like that."

"If I wanted to die, I would have jumped off the Astronomy tower a long time ago."

"Personally, I'd take poison," Peter said.

"Avada Kedavra for me!" James said enthusiastically.  "I want to look good at my funeral.  How about you, Remus?"

"I don't care," he said, "so long as it's quick.  But James –" he remembered the doxy's words – "be careful what you wish for."

Remus wished he had taken his own advice.

* * *

Meanwhile, Lily and her dormmates were having their twice-weekly group therapy session.  It had been Sibyl Trelawney's idea to hold them; she wanted to be a psychiatrist when she graduated, and the others agreed to do it because it meant hearing everyone else's private anxieties on a regular basis.  Lily had asked to go last, because she had so many of them, but sitting there in Sibyl's pink chair with Sibyl giving her a shoulder massage, Lily realized she didn't want to talk about anything that was on her mind.  Unfortunately, there she was in the chair and there were her roommates all staring at her with big mascara-rimmed eyes.

"God you're tense," Sibyl said, kneading away.  "Do you have something specific on your mind?"

"Well yeah," Lily said.  "I mean, you guys know sort of what's been happening, right?"  
  


They all shook their heads mutely; Samantha, Aileen, Kate and, though she couldn't see it, Sibyl. 

"You don't?" Lily said.  "Oh, shit."  So she gave them the essentials of what had happened Halloween Eve and since.  They scooped it up like ice cream.

"So how do you feel about all of this?" Sibyl asked in her most soothing, professional tone.

Lily's shoulders slumped under her fingers.  "I don't know.  I mean, James has really been paying me a lot of attention –"

"He's not bad," Kate said judiciously.

" – but I can't forget how Severus kissed me."

"How was it on a scale of one to happily ever after?" Samantha wanted to know.

"Are you sure it was him?" asked Aileen.  "I mean, he _is –_"  She wrinkled her perfect, petite nose.  "You know."

"Somewhere between amazing and incredible," Lily said, "but Sirius said he thought it was Severus, so…"

"You trust Sirius?" said Sibyl.  "I wouldn't trust him with a Knut unless it had to do with Potions."

"He was actually really nice," Lily said.  "I don't think he's as bad as you think he is."

"Halloween Eve?" Aileen said.  "Didn't you say you were going somewhere with Rob Avery?"

"Right," Lily said, "but I remember kissing him and it was nowhere near amazing."

"How was it on a scale of negative one to horror movie?" asked Samantha.

"Right around soggy bread."

"Ugh."

"But Severus?" said Aileen.

"Do any of you guys remember going down to Hogsmeade last New Year's?" Sibyl asked.

The other four glared at her.  "In case you've forgotten," Kate said, "you _are_ the psychoanalyst or whatever you are and this _is_ Lily's part of the session."

"Wasn't it Severus I kissed at midnight?"

"Right, I remember because I told you you were either desperate or brain-damaged," Aileen said.

"Yeah, and I told you it was none of your damn business who I kissed, because I wouldn't admit that Severus was ugly _and_ a bad kisser."

They grinned at each other, pleased at having solved the mystery.

"How bad compared to Rob?" asked Samantha.

"I never kissed him," Sibyl shrieked, forgetting all about psychiatry and professional detachment.

"Oh yes you bloody well did," Kate interrupted, "and that wasn't all."

"How far'd you get?" Samantha asked.

Sibyl went furiously red.  "The point of all this," she said loftily, "is that Lily could not possibly have kissed Severus because he is physically incapable of an amazing-level kiss."

"_Thank_ you," said Aileen.

"So who was it?" Kate asked.

"You guys," Lily said, "I wasn't finished.  I think Remus likes me too."

They reacted with surprising calm.  "_Ohmygawd," they shrieked as one, then – _

"How do you know?"

"Do you like him?"  
  


"How could she not?"

"What about James?"

"Did you maybe kiss one of them?"

"Which one do you like more?"

"I don't know," Lily yelled, which shut them all up.  "I don't think he even knows he likes me yet.  But you should see him blush when he talks to me.  It's the most incredibly adorable thing."

"You are so lucky," Kate sighed.  "I've had a crush on Remus for just about forever."

"You have?"  This was news to Lily.

"Yeah, I think everyone does."

"I don't," Sibyl said in a superior tone.  "I never have liked him.  There's something very funny about him."

"Yeah," Lily said.  "He does have this really _dry_ sense of humor, you know?"

"Did you kiss Remus?" Kate asked.  "Because I mean he didn't like you before then, did he?"

"Neither did James."

"Damn."

"Boy, if James ever finds out about Remus, he is going to be so pissed," Sibyl said gleefully.

"If I find out you told him, I'll get Sirius to make a potion that turns your contacts into tadpoles, see what I mean?" Lily said.

"Yeah yeah yeah.  You are no fun, you know that?" Sibyl said.

"Don't tell me Sirius likes you too," Kate said.  "Not that he's so great or anything like that. I mean the braces are really a pain when you're trying to snog a guy, but it still wouldn't be fair because James and Remus are both wow."

"Very wow," agreed Samantha.

"You mean you actually tried to snog Sirius?" said Sibyl.  "How did I miss that?"  
  


"You didn't, because I didn't," Kate said.  "That was Aileen, when she was flunking out in Potions."  
  


"Oh yeah.  No, wasn't that Snape?"

"I never kissed that slimy bastard," Aileen yelled.

"Sirius couldn't possibly like me, you guys," Lily interrupted.  "He's so caught up with making Mesmerizing Potions or whatever it is he does that he probably thinks people go to the Astronomy tower to look at the stars."

"Oh my God, Lily," said Kate.  "Don't tell me you don't know about Sirius."

"Know what about Sirius?"  
  


Sibyl grinned.  God, she loved this.  Spreading malicious half-true gossip about everyone she knew was the work of a lifetime, but how fulfilling it could be.

* * *

Remus had had his first bout with insomnia during his second year.  It had been during Christmas break, when it seemed that he was the only student left in the school, and he stayed awake night after night staring out the window and thinking until he nearly collapsed into his own head.  That was when he decided he needed to do something to pass the time, and that was when he had begun writing _A Short Guide to Marauding_.  It was his account of everything that had happened to him and his friends, starting on their first day of Hogwarts, when they had been the only four boys sorted into Gryffindor and were therefore destined to share a dormitory for the next seven years and become the best of friends.  In the five years Remus had been writing, it had gobbled up several ordinary Muggle notebooks, which Remus found more compact than parchment rolls.  

His friends constantly asked to read it, but Remus always put them off some way or another.  He was not writing it to be read by anyone other than himself some time in the untouchable future.  He was not writing it with any consideration of style or artistry.  He was not even writing it primarily to remember, although it had often proven useful there too.  He was writing it because he had felt compelled to do so, back in second year, and because he continued to feel that way.  Some things were too important to be left unspoken, and that was what Remus wrote about.  He would never have called himself a writer, because they were creatures of myth and legend, but they put words onto paper one at a time, the same way he did.

Lately, Remus had been having another spell of insomnia.  It wasn't because he didn't trust Cilantro with his life, although he didn't; he felt more as if he had forgotten how to turn off the switch in his brain, or simply didn't want to.  Tonight was one of those nights.  It was nearly two-thirty on Sunday morning, and Remus was sitting at his desk, which faced the window and afforded a view of the countryside to the south.  He was writing, but on a roll of parchment using his best quill.  Actually he was twiddling his quill and gazing out the window in search of a word when Sirius came in.

Remus whirled at the sudden noise and saw only a shadow in the shadows.  "Who is it?" he said, his voice hoarse and louder than he'd intended.

"It's just me."  Sirius moved into the circle of light that Remus's floating candle cast, and looked down at his glistening words.  "That isn't your story."

"No, it isn't."  Deliberately Remus swept his hand across the words, smearing them beyond recognition.  His palm was green with words.

"Why'd you do that?" Sirius asked without anger or regret.

Remus looked up at him, both of them half-shadowed and strangely distant.  "Some things aren't meant to be put down in words.  What're you doing up?"

"I was watching the rain," he said almost defensively.

"Why?"  
  


"The same reason you look at the stars," Sirius said.

"How can you know why I look at the stars?"

"I don't," Sirius said.  "That's what I mean.  I don't know why I watch the rain either, I just do.  I don't know why you're writing that story, but I know it's the same reason that you watch stars and I watch rain and James plays Quidditch."

"Because I have to," Remus said.

"Exactly."

"Sirius, have you ever been in love?"

"I used to think so," he said, "but then I started wondering if it was really love, and I realized that if I couldn't decide if it was or not, then it probably wasn't."

"I wish I couldn't decide," Remus said.  "I mean, I can't decide, but it's like deciding isn't even my decision.  I feel like it's another one of those things that I do because I have to and no asking why."

"I know you won't tell me," Sirius said, "but I have to ask anyway."

"You're right, I won't tell you."

Sirius knew that tone, and he knew not to ask.

"Sirius," said Remus at length, "is there any kind of potion to stop me from loving her?"

"It depends," Sirius said.  "There are a lot, but they all work on the assumption that love is curable only by death."

"Damn," Remus said.

"There are some that would help you forget.  I mean, they don't make you stop loving someone, you just wouldn't realize how you felt about them –"

"That would be worse," Remus said.

"Anyway, anything strong enough to help you would probably be illegal," Sirius said.

"Great," Remus said.  "I guess I'll take care of this the old-fashioned way."

"How's that?" Sirius said.

"Oh, I think I'll let her break my heart."

"What, you mean she doesn't love you back?"  
  


Remus grinned bleakly.  "Not anymore, if she ever did."

"Remus, what are you on about?" Sirius demanded.

He sighed, and told Sirius all about Lily.

"Oh, wow," Sirius said when he was through.  "I sure hope it's worth all this."

"So do I," Remus said.

"Listen, I'll try to make you something, okay?  But no promises."

"Thanks, Sirius."  Remus smiled at him wanly.  "I think I'm going to bed."

The next morning at breakfast, James told them all about his dream.  Lily and Remus were in love, and Sirius was making them a Happily Ever After potion.

"Isn't that crazy?" James said gleefully.  "I don't know where I get all this stuff."  
  


"Can't imagine," said Sirius.

Two days later, James was missing.

It had been Peter's job to wake them mornings ever since they had discovered that he had some sort of amazing internal clock.  (It wasn't until a couple of years after graduation that they found out he had trained his toad to leap onto his head when it was time to wake up.)  Tuesday morning he was up and dressed on time, then he went around the room yanking everyone's curtains open.  James's bed was empty.

"Hey," Peter said, then repeated himself more loudly.

"Urgh," said Remus.

"Sweet heavens above, I dreamed I was a Bludger," Sirius said.  "I don't suppose there's any Headache Brew left over, is there?"

"You two, James isn't here," Peter said.

"Huh?" said Remus.

Sirius sighed.  "Are you sure he didn't fall asleep under the Invisibility Cloak again?"  He swung his feet out of bed and padded over to Remus's desk.  "Did you leave it over here?" he asked the window, sifting through piles of parchment.

"No, I can't hear him breathing," Peter said.  "D'you think he's going to try scaring us with the poltergeist trick again?"  
  


"James never repeats himself," Sirius said.  "His tricks are endlessly fresh and flawless.  Remus, what in heaven's name is this?"  He held up a partially decomposed mouse in a plastic bag.

"What?  Oh, that's a partially decomposed mouse," Remus said, coherent at last.  "You seemed to have forgotten it on my chair last full moon, so I was planning on returning it to you.  What's the problem, Peter?"

"James isn't _here_," he snapped.

"Well, why don't you check the map?" Remus said mildly.

"Oh yeah."  Peter hurried over to the map, which was conveniently posted on the wall, and reported, "I don't see him anywhere."

"Let me see."  Remus went over to the map too.

"Damn, it's all gone."  Sirius uncorked the bottle and slurped at the inside.  "Not a drop."

"I'm going to Dumbledore," Remus said.  "This is serious."  
  


"I agree," Sirius said.  "Find out if he has anything for headaches."

"I'll go, I'm already dressed," Peter offered.

"Okay," Remus said, and Peter promptly left.  "Sirius, must you?" he added.

Sirius stopped slurping.  "But my head hurts," he whined.

"There's still a bit left of that Headache Brew you made me.  It's over there on top of the cabinet."

"Then what's this?" Sirius asked, staring at the bottle in consternation.

"Oh, probably my economy-sized ink bottle," Remus said, trying not to smirk.

"Merciful heaven," Sirius groaned.  He curled up on the floor and squinched his eyes shut.  "I think I'm going to die.  Was that the multicolored kind, by any chance?"

"No, you know I only use green," Remus said from behind his bed curtain, where he was getting dressed. 

"It tasted like multicolored, though," Sirius insisted.  "Are you sure?"  He got up to check, and took a gulp from the bottle on the cabinet, which he fervently hoped was Headache Brew.

"Fairly sure," Remus said, emerging to put on his robe and run his fingers through his hair a few times.  "Why d'you ask?"

"I need to know these things, Remus," said Sirius impatiently, sniffing the bottle.  "You're right, it is green.  I should have recognized it right away."

The door flew open and Dumbledore walked in.

"Sorry," Peter said, scuttling in after.  "He wanted to see for himself."

Dumbledore had already found the map and was examining it through a pair of blue-tinted glasses.

"Fascinating," he said at length, straightening up and replacing his usual glasses.  "I suppose you are well aware that magical surveillance is strictly forbidden to students, but I could certainly find uses for such a magical object myself."

"If you want it, Professor, it's yours," Remus said quickly.

"Oh, I have no intention of enforcing the rule," said Dumbledore.  "If I punished students for exhibiting creativity and talent, this school would hardly be worth running.  However, if you could find the time to explain the map-making process to me, I would be enchanted."

"Anytime, Professor," said Remus, relieved.

"But I find that, as Mr. Pettigrew informed me, Mr. Potter is nowhere to be found on school property, and this absence is quite unlike him.  Unfortunately I can spare no one to search for him just yet –"

"Can we?" Sirius interrupted.

Dumbledore blinked.  "I beg your pardon?"

"Can we go search for him?  We're his best friends, so we'd have a better chance of finding him than any of the teachers do –"

"What about your classes?"

"I'm sure Professor Binns would excuse us," said Remus.

"History of Magic?  Very well, but I do not wish to send out another search party after you, do you understand?"

"We'll be back by lunch, with or without James," said Sirius.

"Then good luck."  Dumbledore gave them all a final swift glance and strode from the room.

"What luck," Sirius said gleefully.  "No History of Magic for us today."

"And lucky that we have a chance to get to him before the teachers do," Remus added.  "He might be Prongs, you know."

Both Sirius and Peter understood him to mean that James might be in his Animagus form; they looked equally thunderstruck.

"Hadn't thought of that," Sirius said shakily.

"Lucky I did," Remus said.  "Anyway, we'd better be off.  Let's take the tunnel behind the mirror so we won't have to pass those trolls at the gate."

With James gone, Remus was the undisputed leader, so the other two accepted his advice without question.  Anyway none of them really wanted to explain to the guard trolls where they were going or why.  These particular trolls, there to guard against menaces everyone refused to think about, were much smarter than your average troll, and a wandless Confundus charm had absolutely no effect, as the four friends had recently learned.

So they walked quietly down to the fourth floor, more quietly than usual because they all knew why the trolls were there, though they went along with the pretense that he did not, in fact, exist; Remus thought often that he didn't exist only in the sense that dragons didn't exist in the Muggle world.  But he kept his thoughts to himself, where they did no one else any harm, and tried not to think where or how they might find James.

The tunnel brought them out at the main entrance to Hogsmeade, and there they split up, Remus to search the village and Wormtail and Padfoot to scour the countryside.  Remus spent nearly two hours wandering the village, weaving in and out of every shop and restaurant, looking surreptitiously in every alley.  In one of these he heard the scrabble of tiny claws behind him and whirled around to face a rat he recognized as Wormtail (his tail dragging behind him on the ground looked astonishingly wormlike, hence the nickname).  Wormtail jerked his head to the north, then scratched his claws frantically on the ground.  Remus understood, and hurried after the rat out the north gate and up into the nearby hills.

They were sitting together on the floor of a cave. Sirius's arm was around James's shoulders, which rather worried Remus; James would never have allowed such a thing in his normal state.

Remus sat down next to James and asked quietly, "What happened?"

"I woke up around four and couldn't get back to sleep," James said.  "I was thinking about stuff and it suddenly occurred to me that I didn't deserve Lily.  I know it sounds crazy, but I couldn't get that thought out of my head and the more I thought about it, the more it made sense."

"That's not true," Remus said too softly for either of them to hear.

"It was starting to drive me mad, so I went out for a run.  I don't think I stopped until the sun came up.  Then I came in here and fell asleep and next thing I knew, here was this wet dog nose in my face."  James grinned at Sirius, but it was obviously forced and Sirius looked at him without smiling back.

"Don't give yourself any crap about not deserving her," Sirius said.  "That'll drive you batty faster than a week in hospital."

"I know that," James said, "but I can't help thinking it's true.  What d'you say, Remus?"

Remus just shook his head.  Lily wasn't his favorite topic of conversation; already he could feel his words draining away.  "I think," he said at last, "if you treat her the way she deserves, then you have nothing to worry about."

"Well said, as usual," Sirius said too enthusiastically.  "Now, since we told Dumbledore we'd be back before lunch, I imagine he'll be expecting us soon."

He was, but in later years Remus could not have said how James accounted for his absence, save that Lily's name was not mentioned.  Whatever James said, he wasn't punished for it, Remus remembered that, and later that evening when he went down to the library to pick up a few books for their History of Magic work, and Lily cornered him between Magical Creatures and Animagi (Reference Only!!).

"Is James all right?" she demanded, her extraordinary eyes fixed on his face, and he thought with a sudden chill that someday she would no longer shine with youth and beauty, but she would still have those eyes.

"I guess so.  Yeah, he's fine," Remus said.  "Do you love him?"

She seemed to sense the import of his question, because she thought about it for a minute, then said, "I like spending time with James, he's a great person, but no more than you are."

Remus had no idea how to respond to that, but he was spared the necessity when Lily continued.  "Remus," she said, shy, almost hesitant – did she talk to James like that? – "did I see you on Halloween Eve at all?"

It was the second-most painful thing he had ever done, but he lied to her.

"No, it was James."

Then he told her the truth, that he'd been locked away that night because of what he was, and the most pain he experienced in a lifetime of it was knowing that she would never again look at him the same way.

"All I ask," Remus said, "is that you keep my secret.  Can you do that?"

"Of course," she said.  "For your sake and James's, I will."

"Would you swear it?"

"On whatever you like."

"No need, I trust you," he said, and smiled a sudden bitter smile because he knew she could no longer say the same of him.  "I hope I answered your question," he added, a touch of malice he normally would not have allowed himself, then picked up his books and left.

Lily stood there in the aisle for a minute, too heart-bruised to ponder what never had been and now never would be.  She had forgotten why she was there, what she had been thinking minutes ago, because it was suddenly and horribly irrelevant.  She went slowly back to the common room and sat down with James and Sirius and Peter, Remus having become mysteriously exhausted, and later that night she let James kiss her for the first time, wondering why it seemed so different but refusing any longer to consider it.  She went to bed early and stared up at the canopy of her bed, feeling as though someone was dead, feeling as though she should cry but her tears were frozen unshed.

Sybil had had no idea how right she was about him.


	3. Roses for Remus

Chapter 3 – Roses for Remus

Remus was depressed and all of Gryffindor house knew it.  He and his three friends had become a fixture in the common room, not so much fellow students as the showmen who gave every day its savor, and now quite suddenly there were only three of them.  Remus no longer frequented the common room or even the library; he passed ghostlike through his former haunts, going no one knew where.  He didn't sleep and hardly ate.  Mostly he stayed locked in his dormitory, working feverishly on a project that never seemed to near completion.  He had even begun skipping prefects' meetings; James talked to him about it, first as Head Boy and then as one friend to another.  When that had no effect, Dumbledore called Remus to his office for the first time in his seven years at Hogwarts for an official reprimand and an unofficial offer of help.

"If there is anything I can do to help you become who you were," Dumbledore had said, "you have only to ask."

In response, Remus had unpinned the prefect badge he had once polished religiously, now dull with fingerprints.  "I renounce the office and duties of prefect because –" he stumbled, and hated himself for it – "because I can no longer fulfill them properly."

"Why not?" Dumbledore asked gently.

Remus lowered his eyes, unable to face any longer that piercing regard.  "I can't say," he muttered, despising himself now for not lying to Dumbledore, and for not telling him the truth.

"I need a reason for the official record, you know," Dumbledore said, still with the same calm.

Remus saw the Head Girl badge shimmering on her robes and blinked.  "Make something up," he said savagely.  "Say I vandalized your office, or say I'm the Dark Lord himself, I don't care."

Something in Dumbledore's face changed; what it signified Remus neither knew nor cared.  "I'm going to say personal reasons, how does that sound?"

"Fair enough," Remus said.  "May I be excused?"

"One more thing.  Be careful –"  Dumbledore seemed to be struggling for words.  "Be careful that you do not become bitter over this."

"No, I certainly don't have the right to be," he'd said, unsure whether he was being sarcastic or serious.

That had been on a Thursday.  Today was Saturday, Hufflepuff was playing Slytherin at Quidditch in ten minutes' time, and Remus was at his desk, a book open in front of him that he was clearly not reading.

Someone knocked four times on the door.

"That you, Sirius?"

Remus got up to neutralize the spells on the door, and sure enough it was Sirius, wearing James's red-and-gold scarf from first year that he always wore to games.  His cheeks were tinged with red as though he'd been out of doors already.

"You coming to the game?"

"I don't think so," Remus said.  Even Quidditch meant her, now.

"Can I come in?"

Remus stepped aside – it was after all Sirius's room too, and he could hardly refuse – and Sirius sat down on Remus's bed, closest to the door, as if it were his own.

"You're going to be late for the game," Remus said automatically.

"You love Quidditch, why aren't you coming?"  Sirius crossed his arms, still seeming almost to be made of porcelain except for his dark searching eyes.  "It's because of her, isn't it."

"What else?"

"Is that why - ?"  Sirius didn't finish asking, just walked up to Remus and poked him in the chest, the spot where his prefect badge used to be.  "I can't say I blame you," he said more gently.  "I never wanted to be one myself, but you really did.  And you gave it up for her?"

"I can't stand seeing her," Remus said low.  "Can't go to meetings and act like I don't see.  I can't let her know things haven't changed for me – the way they have for her."

"What happened?" Sirius said.  "I wanted to ask but –"

"I know," Remus said.  So he told the story, sitting on the floor with his head in his hands, pretending it helped.  Sirius listened without a word until Remus finished, lifting up his eyes, "I told her the truth, Sirius, and she'll never admit – no one ever says they're prejudiced, do they? – but if she ever felt anything for me, that's over for ever."

"Isn't that what you wanted?" asked Sirius softly and Remus jerked, astonished.  "Isn't that why you wished for them –"

"I wanted her to have someone to protect her, not put her in danger," he said.  "I wanted her to have what she deserves."

"Well, James doesn't think he deserves her, does that change anything?" Sirius retorted.

"That isn't like James and you know it."

"Regardless," Sirius said, "she would have found out the truth sometime and _you_ know it.  She isn't stupid and someday she'd figure it out, and do you think it'd hurt any less then?"

"I wouldn't count on it," Remus muttered.

"The only thing you could reasonably torture yourself with," Sirius continued, "is telling her that it was James and not you."

"It would only have made her feel worse," he said, "knowing what I am."

What Sirius did not say, what he knew Remus would not hear, was that real love would not have walked away.  Instead he said, very quietly, "I wonder if anyone will ever give up as much for you as you have for others."

"I think you would, if you had to," Remus said.  "Wouldn't you?"

Sirius didn't answer, just smiled.  "Remus," he said, "I've made something for you.  I think it'll help, but I won't give it to you until after the game, so you might as well come along."

"Well," Remus said.  "I wouldn't go if I thought you were just trying to drag me out of the room.  But since I know you only want me along so you don't have to walk into the stands by yourself –"

"You're too noble for your own good," Sirius said, smirking.  This was more like the Remus he knew.

"Hand me my cloak and scarf, will you?  I don't fancy having to regrow a hand today."

Hufflepuff edged out Slytherin in a nerve-twisting game of 150 to 100, and Remus yelled as loudly as anyone, if only to distract himself from other things.  To their credit, neither James nor Peter questioned his sudden reanimation, nor did they ask what was in the bottle that Sirius brought up from his subterranean lab.

"I couldn't really test it on myself," Sirius explained to Remus, back up in the dormitory.  "I'm not in the same frame of mind, you see.  And I wasn't about to test it on you, not knowing what it might do.  I'm still not sure it's safe, so if you don't want to risk it –"

"I trust you, Sirius," said Remus evenly, and drained the bottle in one gulp.

It hurt Sirius's heart to think of that.

Traditionally, there was a Hogsmeade visit on the last Saturday before winter vacation, so the quartet left the castle together in the early afternoon, for all appearances the inseparable group they'd been a few weeks ago.  The big excitement this trip was finding James a gift for Lily; Sirius was worried about how this would affect Remus, but he seemed oblivious to his heart.

"Where do you even shop for a girl?" James asked, looking faintly panicked.

"Well, I guess Zonko's is out," Remus said.

"So is Honeydukes," Sirius added.

"Why?" James demanded.  "What's wrong with Honeydukes?  I could get her –"

"What, some Chocolate Frogs?" Sirius snickered.  "How first year."

James flushed a dull red.  "Fine, Honeydukes is out.  Any other helpful advice?"

"There's always Gladrags," Peter said.

Remus and Sirius shared a smirk.  "You could buy her some perfume," Sirius said mockingly.

"How about a nice necklace?" added Remus.

"Or if you're really getting serious, they've got some high-quality lingerie," Sirius said gleefully.

"I'm shocked, Sirius," said Remus, in a tone that said he wasn't.  "I didn't think you were the kind of person to hide Gladrags catalogues under your bed and read them when you think no one's around –"

"What?" Sirius yelped.  "This is slander. I absolutely don't have to take this from you."

"You two are so immature," James interrupted.  "If you can't act your age, then don't come shopping with me.  Go to Zonko's with the rest of the third years."

"Oh, but we are acting our age," Sirius said.  "It's no use pretending to be an adult.  We know what you're capable of."

"But I don't want Lily to know," he snapped.  "She thinks I'm the responsible, mature Head Boy and Quidditch captain, and I'd rather like things to stay that way."

Remus tripped over a rock in the street, Remus who had always moved with the feral grace of his other self, and Sirius reached out to steady him.

"You okay?" he asked.

"I feel sort of pale," Remus said in an odd voice and started coughing, bent forward with his hands over his mouth.  When he straightened up and let his hands fall, there was a single rose petal stuck to his palm.  

It was the color of fresh blood and at first Sirius thought it was, that Remus was carrying around some secret internal wound beneath his same untouched face.

"Oh God," James said, thinking the same thing, until he touched the spot of red and it fluttered whole into his hand.

"Is that a rose petal?" Peter said incredulously, and soon he and James were giggling at the sheer absurdity of it, but Sirius knew better.  The potion had begun to work, and he hadn't been so far off after all.

"Don't move," he said to Remus, who nodded mutely with wide scared eyes, who didn't need Sirius to tell him what was happening.

Hogsmeade was of course entirely populated by wizards, but some of them had learned well from Muggles, because on every street, instead of a telephone booth, there was an owl in a glass cage and a quill chained with a spell to the slanting glass writing surface.  It cost a Sickle, which Sirius did not have, but Peter gave him the coin and Sirius sent a hasty owl to Hogwarts while James gripped Remus's shoulder and Remus coughed as though he might turn inside out.

To their great surprise it was not Madame Pomfrey who came, no magical stretcher or smoking potion, but Albus Dumbledore himself, who flew them all back to his office, who made Remus some bitter-smelling tea laced with honey, who inquired what had happened.

Sirius told a half-lie, that he had concocted a new potion and Remus had tested it even though he, Sirius, had warned Remus that it most probably wouldn't work – 

"What was it supposed to do?" Dumbledore asked.

Sirius froze.  To cure this poisoning love, of course, he couldn't say that.  What else could it be - ?

"I'm trying to cure lycanthropy," he said.  "Sir."

Dumbledore regarded him solemnly.  "An admirable cause," he said.  "I wish you luck."

Then of course Remus had to go to the hospital wing, where Madame Pomfrey had to put soundproofing charms around his bed so the other patients could have some respite from his endless coughing.

"Go to Hogsmeade," Remus told them between coughing fits.  "I don't want Lily mad at you because of me, James."  He smiled crookedly and Sirius knew he appreciated the irony of that.

James looked uncertain.  "It wouldn't take long –"

"I'm staying," Peter said.

"Me too," Sirius said.

"Try Gladrags first," Remus said.

"Okay."  James ran from the room promising, "I'll be back soon."

Within half an hour Madame Pomfrey was back, and no amount of blandishing, no sudden extreme illness could induce her to let them stay.  Remus's sheets, when they left, were strewn with a dozen petals – nine red, two white and one pink.

James snuck in two hours after he left, to bring Remus a colossal box of Chocolate Frogs and to show him Lily's present, a shawl made of the hair of the Follfum rabbits.  It felt like the Invisibility Cloak but fluffier.

"Good choice," Remus told him.  "Want a frog?"

* * *

Having heard from Madame Pomfrey that Remus would remain in the hospital wing through Monday for observation, Peter and Sirius brought a few things to make Remus feel more at home.

"Where's James?" asked Remus as his two friends struggled to hang the curtains from Remus's bed, which they'd smuggled out of the dormitory.

"With Lily, where else," Peter said.  "Sirius, I think you got the wrong curtains."

"Howzat?" Sirius asked cheerily.

"These are yellow."

"Oh, well…"  Sirius grinned.  "You know I still hadn't gotten into the Hufflepuff dorms, and Remus, you would not believe how many girls were willing to give up their curtains for you."

"Don't tell me," said Remus.  "How'm I supposed to sleep with these?  It's like high noon."

"The Hufflepuffs manage, don't they?" Peter said.

"Oh, so you're sleeping again," Sirius said, mildly sarcastic.  "Although if I had so many girls dribbling after me, I guess I wouldn't either –"

"Shut it," Remus said.

Sirius flinched.

"Remus," said Peter quickly, "what's all that?", pointing to the bedside table where cards hung magically suspended one above the other and candy boxes pooled at its foot.

"Oh, those," Remus said offhandedly.  "Just some get-well wishes from about half the school.  Did you tell everyone?"  

His tone was light, teasing even, and Sirius smiled.  "I told a few people, who told a few other people, who told everyone," he said.

"And you took all the credit, I suppose?"

"He said you'd been attacked by wild geese," Peter said matter-of-factly, "but today I heard someone saying you'd gotten Lyme disease and all your joints were frozen solid –"

"I heard you'd been bitten by a werewolf," Sirius sniggered.

Remus paled.  "Who?"  
  


"Dunno."  Sirius shrugged, still laughing.  "Looked like Slytherins to me."

"Good Lord – Snape."

They froze.

"He can't be getting back at _you_ for that," Sirius yelped.  "The whole incident was entirely my fault."

"No, it was my fault," Peter said.  "Because remember, I said wouldn't it be funny if Snape got stuck in the Shrieking Shack and you said –"

"No, it was my fault," Remus said, still unnaturally pale.  "Because I said yeah, sure, I'll rip him up for you and it won't even be me doing it –"

"Oh God, Remus," said Sirius, suddenly just as pale.  "If James hadn't – you would have – and then the Ministry would have called you a murderer and a beast and put you into Azkaban, and it would have been my fault – they ought to put me in there for not _thinking_ of that."

"You don't deserve it," Remus said.  "No one does."

"Some people do, for some things," Peter said.  

"Like what?" Sirius said with a dark look.

Peter flushed.  "Nothing worse than standing guard for you when you were stealing all this for Remus."

"How terrible," Sirius said, rolling his eyes.  "You and Remus are so saintly, it's a wonder you associate with lowlifes like us."

"Oh, you can be saintly when it suits you," Remus said dryly.

Sirius flushed in his turn.  "I stole something for you from the kitchens."  He ducked and rummaged around in the Invisibility Cloak, which they'd borrowed from James.  Actually Peter had gotten it out of his trunk and they had agreed that James wouldn't take it kindly if they'd interrupted him and Lily for a little thing like that.

"You shouldn't have," Remus said amusedly.  "What is it?"

Sirius emerged holding a dish of ice cream.  "I tried to put a Freezing Charm on it, but it didn't quite work –"

"He put it on me instead," Peter said.

"Oh, I wondered why you weren't moving your left hand."

"I made sure it was the kind you liked, too."  Remus ate only banana-flavored ice cream for a reason that no one had figured out (the other three unanimously decided it tasted like baby food.  How they knew what baby food tasted like was something Remus cared not to know).

"Sirius was forced to eat the triple-chocolate ice cream they brought out the first time," Peter said.  "It was tragic."

"I set a new all-time record of three point seven seconds," Sirius bragged.

"And I thought three point nine was unbeatable," Peter said sadly.

"Thanks, you guys."  Remus started in on the ice cream.  "Madame Pomfrey doesn't understand the old-fashioned cure for sore throat nearly as well as you'd expect of a trained mediwitch."

"Er – Remus," said Sirius almost inaudibly.  "About those wild geese– "

"Hey, Sirius," said Peter from under the bed.  "I don't think Remus has enough yellow in here, do you?"  He stood up grinning, holding a chamber pot.

"Oh for God's sake, Peter," grumbled Remus, "I can walk just as well as you –"

James burst in yelling, "Here's the invalid!", trailed by Lily who looked as though she'd gotten between a ravening sloth and its food.

"Oh shit," Sirius said to himself.

"What, Peter, too far to the bathroom?" James sniggered, then remembered that Lily was there and flushed madly.

"Hi, you two," Remus said.  "Nice of you to come, but I really don't have room for any more presents."  He grinned and if Sirius hadn't known that he'd flubbed up the potion, he might have thought that Remus was enjoying Lily's discomfiture; she was carefully looking anywhere but Remus.

He noticed it too.  "Come on, Lily, this shouldn't be anything new for you," he said.  "Surely James has gotten down to his boxers by now."

James looked ready to dismember something and Lily looked still more uncomfortable if possible.

Sirius said teasingly, "It's okay, Remus doesn't bite" – and stopped dead, looking as horrified as everyone else.

"Don't worry, she knows," Remus said quietly, not to Sirius.

Peter was about to say something, the question plain in his eyes but Lily interrupted, "I heard the rumors – do you think someone else knows?"

"Besides Snape?  Hard to tell."

"Snape knows?"

"What," Sirius said grinning, "you mean James hasn't told you how he saved all our asses including Snape's?"

"James doesn't brag about himself," Lily said.

"Are we both talking about the same Mr. Potter here?" Sirius asked dramatically.  "My darling Lily, James is a raving egomaniac –"

"No he isn't," she said furiously.  "Don't you talk about James like that."

"Lily, they've known me since the beginning of time – er, first year actually, but don't you think –"

She whirled on James.  "And you!"

No one said anything for several awkward seconds, then James said with false cheer, "Anyone up for a trip to the kitchens?  I'm stealing."

"I'll come," said Peter.

"Then put down the sodding chamber pot."

"But it would look so classy on our dorm wall, don't you think?" said Peter happily.

"Fine, then transfigure the blasted thing at least."

"I've got to tell Remus something, so go ahead," Sirius said, shifty-eyed.

"Then behave," James trilled, leading the other two out.

"I think if he cheated on her twice a day she'd still smile and say welcome home, dinner's almost ready," Remus observed, equal parts bitterness and wonder.

"About the potion I'm sorry it didn't work," Sirius blurted.

"What?"  Remus looked at Sirius for the first time that day and Sirius refused to meet his eyes.

"It wasn't supposed to do that," he said.

"It worked fine anyway."

"What?"

Remus shrugged.  "I was up all night coughing and I had a series of revelations, okay?"

"Like what?"

"Lots of stuff.  Lily and I were never meant to be, mostly.  And Snape isn't such a bad guy either."

"An Objectivity Potion," Sirius said gleefully.  "Once I get the bugs out of it, I'll be rich.  May I?"  He was already halfway through a box of Every Flavor Beans, so Remus didn't see the sense in replying.  "Who's that from?" he added, pointing at a multicolored rose.

"You."

Sirius went Gryffindor scarlet.  "I know James thinks you and I are a little odd, but honestly, Remus, I –"

"You didn't think I got rid of all those petals, did you?  It just took some magic to make them stick together."

"Don't tell me you hacked up the stem too," Sirius said interestedly.

"Er – actually I transfigured a pipe cleaner."

"Your secret is safe with me," Sirius said.  "Mind if I tell everyone it's from that first-year Slytherin that tripped over your bag in Great Hall last week?"

"Actually, Sirius –"

"Cheers," he said, leaping from the room slightly ahead of Madame Pomfrey.

Later that day Dumbledore came to visit Remus, who asked for and received his prefect badge back.

"What a lovely rose," Dumbledore remarked.

"It's from Sally Ann Struthers," Remus said solemnly.

"That was quite a tumble she took the other day, wasn't it?"

When Dumbledore had gone, Remus discovered that he could laugh without his throat flaming.  It was a wonderful feeling.

* * *

Christmas was fast approaching and Great Hall was drifted with pristine snow that never melted and, as James and Sirius soon discovered, made fantastic snowballs.  Returning from detention on their final evening at Hogwarts, Sirius and James raced each other up to the dormitory, where Remus and Peter and presents awaited.

Even by their usual standards, the room looked incredible.  The chamber pot was overflowing with Christmas tree ornaments, the four sets of yellow curtains (Remus assumed that Sirius must have struck some sort of deal with the Hufflepuffs) were decked out with tinsel, and a superb blue spruce, hung with twinkling rainbow lights and Honeydukes' finest, was suspended upside-down from the ceiling.  Sirius had gotten the idea from the Muggles, but everyone agreed that it was much more impressive without wires and such.  Remus had naturally done most of the spell researching while James was off with Lily, Peter was exploring the Quidditch section of the library and Sirius was trying to transfigure his quill into a banana, but the end result was well worth a day of his life.

"Back so soon?" Remus said as James and Sirius rushed in.

"McG let us off early," James said, pulling off his tie and pitching it into a corner.

"Joy to the world and all that," Sirius said through a mouthful of chocolate.  "Shall we get started?"

Traditionally, the four friends exchanged gifts on their last night at Hogwarts because they all spent Christmas with their families (except for the memorable year when Peter had been so angry at his mother for bleaching his special Gryffindor championship T-shirt that he refused to go home for Christmas; the other three agreed to stay too, and ended up doing a great deal of critical research for their pet project at the time, the Marauder's Map).  It would have been simple enough to send each other packages over break, but this was one of their traditions and as such, inviolable, even if none of them could quite remember how or why it had begun.

"So what're you getting from your parents, Peter?" asked James.  "Here, Sirius, this one's from me."

Sirius began to rip it open as Peter replied, "Hopefully a decent broomstick."

"What's wrong with yours?" Remus wanted to know; Peter's top-of-the-line Pineapple Blossom 253 was only two and a half years old, a fifteenth birthday present from his parents.  
  


"It's getting kind of wobbly, and the turns aren't what they used to be," Peter said.  "I was reading through some Quidditch magazines and I'm kind of hoping for a Hibiscus Blossom."

"Peter, that's the same exact broom with a different colored handle," James snapped.

"But the 317 model just came out last month."

"A stoplight-shaped lamp – how on earth did you know I wanted one?" Sirius asked.

James shrugged.  "You talk a lot in your sleep."

"Do I?"  Sirius blanched.  "What other incriminating things have I been saying?"

"Last night you dreamed you were taking a bath in Pétillant Potion," Remus said.

Sirius scowled.  "Only a Frenchman would invent such a thing.  What earthly good does it do to make liquid bubble?"

"You seemed to be enjoying it," Remus said.

"Yes, well – here you go."  Sirius tossed each of them a lumpy package messily wrapped with lots of tape and animated snowflake wrapping paper.  "Might as well open them all at once."

James was the quickest; he pulled out a green, blue and white crocheted afghan.  "Don't tell me you made this," he said, starting to giggle.

Remus unfolded his, a firework design in red, orange and black.  "Sirius, how in heaven's name did you learn to crochet?"

Sirius looked sulky.  "Remember when you locked me in the library overnight?"

"Sirius, that was only two months ago, of course I remember."

"I learned a lot of useful spells in there, including how to enchant a crochet hook, and, well…"  Sirius shrugged.

"But did you learn your lesson?"

"Never ever mess with Remus's homework," Sirius recited.

"Excellent."  Remus beamed at him.  "James, get a hold of yourself," he added.

James was lying helpless on the floor, sobbing with silent laughter.  "Sirius can crochet," he choked out at last, and he was off again.

"So?  I'm sure anyone could," Peter said.

"I'd like to see you try," Sirius retorted.  "It's much harder than it looks."

"Is that when you learned that shielding spell?  I'd really like to learn it sometime," Remus interrupted.

"Whenever you want," Sirius said, grateful for the distraction.

James sat up at last, wiping his eyes.  "Sirius," he said, still laughing a little, "some things you don't want to know about your friends, and that is one of them."

"Oh, you seemed to enjoy hearing about it," Sirius said, crossing his arms.

"Ah, Sirius, don't be mad.  It's lovely, but –"

"But what?" Sirius asked crossly.

"My _great-grandmother_ crochets," James howled.

"So does my mother – are you insulting her?"

"No he isn't," Remus interrupted.  "James, I think you ought to open my present now."

"With pleasure," he said, wiping the last of the tears from his eyes before tearing open the package.  Inside was a single playing card – the king of hearts, with the caption _James._

"What the –"

James reached down to pick up the card, but as soon as he touched it, the glamour dissolved, and he held a brand-new pack of self-shuffling Exploding Snap cards.

"Hey, thanks," James said.  "Now I've got cards again."

"I'm really sorry about that," Remus said.  "I honestly thought you were cheating."

"No big deal," James said.  "But how did you know about – er, the king of hearts?"

"Well, I couldn't sleep one night so I came down to the common room to read, and fell asleep on one of the couches.  Then when you guys came in I woke up –"

"Without saying anything?" James demanded.

"I was still half asleep, but just awake enough to hear what you guys were saying."

"Oh dear Lord," James said, putting his face in his hands.

"Crocheting doesn't seem quite so bad not, does it?" Remus said, smiling innocently.

James looked at Sirius.  "Sorry."

Sirius shrugged.  "Don't worry about it."

Remus summoned a package from the bottom of the pile.  "For you, Peter," tossing it to him.

Peter turned it over in his hands a few times, listening to it rattle, before pulling off the paper.  "Insta-Ill," he read from the package.  "Gives you all the symptoms of flu without that pesky discomfort."

"In case you need to get out of History of Magic," Remus said, smiling.

"Hey, thanks!"

Peter gave James and Sirius each a scarlet wool cloak; James's had "Gryffindor Beater & Captain" embroidered in gold on the back, and Sirius's "Gryffindor Water Boy," which delighted him no end.  James gave Peter Follfum-fur earmuffs, so he'd stop complaining about wind in his ears during practice.  Peter gave Remus a bottle of emerald green ink that glimmered gold in the light.  Remus gave Sirius an extra-large aluminum cauldron, "so you can make me some of that Sommeilleure potion," he teased.  ("Those Frenchmen," Sirius said again.)  James gave Remus a copy of _So__ You Want to Make Someone's Life Miserable._

When they had finished unwrapping presents, they stretched out, kicking the wrapping paper aside, and talked about their Christmas wishes.

"So what are you guys going to do with vacation?" Remus asked, summoning a foil-wrapped chocolate from the tree.  "Just bum around and play with your new toys?"

"Mum and I, we'll probably toast bread over the fire and talk about her latest job and life companion," James said.  He was an only child, his father having run off when James was twelve, with a backup singer for the hottest wizarding group at the time, The Milligans.  His mother was an Irish Muggle with frizzy red hair and a strong dislike of the wizarding world for having produced her former husband.

"Bringing Lily home to meet your mum?" Sirius teased.

James flushed.  "Actually, yes.  She's coming for a few days at the end of break.  How about you?"

"Oh, I'll probably get railroaded into a few concerts.  You know how the parents can be about cultural stuff.  Mum figures if she has to be a Muggle, she'll be the most enlightened one she can."  Sirius's father was a Muggle and his mother a Squib; Sirius only saw his wizarding grandparents once a year, and his mother never did.

"I want Mum and Dad to take me to a Quidditch game," Peter said.  "Preferably the nationals."  Peter's family was thirteen generations of pure-blooded wizards, and his father held an important and lucrative job at the Gringotts branch in Edinburgh.  His was the kind of family that could afford to purchase a brand-new Hibiscus Blossom and tickets to a Quidditch game without straining their Gringotts account.

Remus gave the ceiling a twisted smile.  "I know you're all too polite to ask about my break, so I'll spare you the details."  The other three knew very well that his parents would probably not say a dozen words to Remus during the whole vacation.  He had ceased to exist to them when he was four years old.  His older brother Steve, a broomstick salesman in London, was in his parents' eyes their only child; Remus was barely even their legal son.  He remembered the day they had taken him to London, to the Department of Magical Births and Deaths, to have his name legally changed when he was eleven years old.  He had picked out his new name, something almost no one had the chance to do.  Lupin, a hint for those who knew their languages.  Remus, because the mythological one had been suckled by a wolf, and because he had been the brother who'd gotten screwed over.  He had signed his new name with the quill that recorded the birth of a magical child, and from then on he had no longer been a part of his own family.

Remus rose unsteadily.  "I'll be right back – going to the bathroom."  The door shuddered closed behind him.

"I wish he'd come spend Christmas with one of us," Sirius muttered.  "That family of his –"

James's jaw jutted out in anger.  "No child of mine will ever be treated like that, I don't care if he's an ogre."

The Christmas lights made multicolored constellations of the darkened room.  "At least he's got us," Sirius said.

"We aren't going to desert him for what he is," James added.

Sirius stared at the twinkling lights he had hung for them.  "Merry Christmas, Remus," he said softly.


	4. Polyjuiced

Chapter 4 – Polyjuiced

Nothing was bleaker than the world with school newly back in session.  And, Remus reflected, having Transfiguration homework didn't help.  Worse, none of his friends was around to share his encyclopedic knowledge of the subject (and vast practical experience).  James and Peter were, unsurprisingly, practicing Quidditch, and Sirius was upstairs in the dormitory.  Sirius had been acting odd lately, which was in itself perfectly normal, but his recent behavior was of a different and far more disturbing sort.  He had taken to haunting the library at all hours and carrying thick bundles of parchment under his arm, which was entirely too much like something Remus himself would do for his peace of mind.  

Remus worried that he was influencing Sirius for the worse by his own studious behavior.  After all, Sirius was one of the most brilliant students in their year (along with James) who rarely, if ever, cracked a book to earn his top grades.  Remus put in the work he did because he had not been blessed with such a brilliant intellect.  In fact, Sirius routinely twitted Remus that he belonged in Hufflepuff because he fought so hard for his grades, which notion Remus treated with the disdain it deserved.  Why, after all, should he be proud to struggle for something that came to others for nothing?

So Remus was relieved to see Sirius come pelting into the common room.  At least he was until Sirius, shining with excitement, asked him, "Will you come to the library with me?"

"Sirius, this has gone too far," Remus said, throwing his quill onto the table.  "I refuse to help you waste any more of your valuable time studying."

"I'm not studying, you fool," Sirius said impatiently.  "Did you really think I'd be sitting around poring over Charms notes when there are a thousand important potions to be discovered?"

Remus flipped his book shut and preceded Sirius out the portrait hole.  "Which one?"

"Yours, of course," Sirius said happily.  "But here's the thing – I'm finally starting to get somewhere with it, only there isn't a single book left in the library that can help me."

"And I suppose you've been through them all," said Remus.

"Of course."

"Even the Restricted Section?"

"Especially that.  So now I have to get into the back room, and hope I find something there."

"So I'm what, your lookout or something?"

"Exactly."

"Sirius, for God's sake," Remus said.  "Is that the best plan you can come up with?  What's gotten into you?  You're the one who came up with the plan to steal the guardian of the Slytherin common room –"

"Which was perfect, except the Slytherin common room doesn't have a guardian," Sirius said sulkily.

"We were third years, what did we know?  Anyway, it was a good plan," Remus said consolingly.

"It also took three months, which we don't have," Sirius said.  "Madame Pince is clearing out about half of those books tomorrow to put in long-term storage, and I have as much chance in there as a fly in Great Hall."

"How'd you know she's clearing them out?"

Sirius shrugged.  "You'd be surprised what you can overhear in the library.  For example, just yesterday I learned that Lissa Jamieson engraved the words 'Remus Lupin is dead sexy' onto the girls' bathroom wall –"

Predictably, Remus blushed.  "I thought you'd have better things to do than listen to malicious lies."

"But it's true," Sirius protested, grinning.

"And how would you know?"

Sirius's grin widened.  "I looked."

Remus looked carefully at Sirius, who appeared as somber as he ever did (which was of course little enough).  "I should know better than to ask, but –"

"There wasn't much else about you," Sirius said.  "Frankly, I was astonished."

"That wasn't what –"

"Sure."  Sirius crossed the hall and tried a doorknob.  When it opened to a simple charm, he leapt in without looking and horrid crashing noises ensued.

"What –"

"Broom closet."  Sirius's voice was muffled.  "Damn, I spilled something and it feels like it's eating through my robes."

"Okay, I'll go see if anyone's interested –"

"Get in here and help me, you toadstool."

Remus sighed and lit his wand.  "This school is _full_ of unused classrooms, and you manage to pick a broom closet."

Inside was a mess, mops and buckets jumbled together and Sirius sprawled among them, a greenish stain spreading down the front of his robes.

"Shut the damn door," he said.  "This is bad enough without making a public spectacle of it."

Remus shot a spell over his shoulder; there was barely room to turn around.  "If you don't want your clothes stained, you'd better get your robes off."

Sirius struggled to sit up.  "You want to be more careful, Remus, not everyone is as pure-minded as you and I."

"Yes, you're certainly the poster boy for innocence," Remus agreed as Sirius finally succeeded in peeling off his robes, wadding them up and dumping them on the floor.  Sirius then settled himself on an upturned bucket and demanded, "What's the time?"

Remus checked.  "Quarter after four."

"You'll have to hurry then, Madame Pince takes her ten-minute break at four-twenty without fail."

"Me?"

"Yeah, you can't expect me to walk in there without my robes and no one notice, now can you?"

"Right, because no one notices when I walk into a room," Remus snapped.

"Isn't there some sort of charm you can cast to make people not notice you?"

"Oh, you mean the one that was our Charms practical during fifth year finals," Remus said scathingly.  "Yeah, I think I might vaguely remember how to do that."

"You know it perfectly," Sirius said, ignoring Remus's tone.  "The door's behind her desk, sneak in quietly and shrink the books so you can put them in your pocket –"

"How'm I supposed to know what to get?" Remus said, slightly panicky now.  "You're the Potions whiz, not me."

"Just get some that look good – hurry up, she's probably left by now –"

Remus darted out, headed for the library, vowing that somehow Sirius would pay for this one.  But to his astonishment, the plan went exactly as Sirius had said.  The Self-Effacement Charm worked to perfection; none of the half-dozen students in view so much as looked up when Remus slipped into the back room.  He gathered five likely looking titles in the same number of minutes, shrinking them one at a time and pocketing them, and he walked swiftly out the doors, passing Madame Pince on her way back to the library.

Flushed, heart racing, Remus flung open the door to the broom closet and Sirius looked up from his robes tranquilly.  "Almost out," he said.

Remus pulled him to his feet, closing the door on the disordered broom closet.  "You and I," he said emphatically, "are reviewing the Self-Effacement Charm tonight."  He began striding back down the hallway.

"Did everything go okay?" Sirius asked, catching up.  "You're all –"  He waved vaguely for lack of a better word.

"Yeah, I know," Remus said.  "I hope I got something you can use."

"Oh, I'm sure you did," Sirius said, "and if not, you can always help me raid the long-term storage."

"Because I'm such an accomplished book-stealer," Remus agreed.

They returned to the common room, only to discover James pacing maniacally before the fire, still wearing his Quidditch robes.  As they approached, he stopped pacing and said, "Bad news."

"Where's Peter?" demanded Sirius.

"He is the bad news."  James sighed.  "He quit the team today."

"I don't believe it," Sirius said in hushed tones, but then he thought leaving the Quidditch team a worse crime than coming to Potions unprepared.

"Why?" Remus asked.

"He said he couldn't get along with the other team members anymore, which I guess was true enough," James said.  "He nearly got into a fight with Blakely over some tactical thing today."

"Peter?  He's a whingeing coward!" Sirius said.

James looked grim.  "Well, he got into Gryffindor somehow, didn't he?  I guess this means I have to set up a date for tryouts, though."

"When?" Sirius asked eagerly.

"Sometime next week, probably.  Our next game is a month from now, so we'll have to get started right away.  And Sirius…"  James looked at him intently.  "I know you're going to try out, and I know you're a good player, but I can't help you at all with this.  I'm going to pick the best player for the spot regardless of whether he's my friend, understand?"

"Perfectly," Sirius said.

James glanced at Remus.  "I'm really sorry, but I –"

"It's okay," Remus said quickly.  "You didn't make the rules."

"Yeah," James said.  "Well, I'm going to write up a notice for the bulletin board, I'll see you later."  He walked off, the cloak Peter had given him swishing at his heels.

Remus had thought Sirius excited before, but now he had a numbing grip on Remus's arm and his eyes were afire.  "Remus," he said, "will you help me?"

"But I –"

"It's not cheating since you're not on the team, but you're as good as any of them," Sirius said excitedly.

"Sirius, I'm not –"

"Please?"

Remus sighed.  When had he ever refused that look?  "Fine, but only if you help me with my Transfiguration homework."

Sirius beamed.  "You can copy mine for all I care."

"Because that doesn't count as cheating," Remus said good-naturedly.

"Come on, let's go now before it gets dark."

"And before it starts snowing more," Remus added, but he let Sirius drag him upstairs to get their cloaks anyway.

* * *

Tryouts were duly held, and Sirius was plainly the best one out there, so much so that no one even thought to accuse James of favoritism.  Remus thought he would never forget the look on Sirius's face when James came up to him, trying to look solemn but giving in to a glorious grin when he said, "You're on the team."

Sirius glanced up, blinking back tears that only Remus saw, and said quietly, "You're kidding."

"Of course not," James yelled, then Sirius leapt up and James crushed him in a hug, something he otherwise never would have done, and Remus saw that he, too, was holding back tears.

The first practice was the very next evening, which happened to be clear but frosty, so that Sirius borrowed Peter's earmuffs and Remus's gloves, and of course he had James's old scarf and his water boy cloak (Remus wondered whether Sirius would maybe learn to embroider now) so he left looking like a patchwork of the four of them.  Peter was gone, none of them knew where, so that left Remus by himself and having, by a miracle, finished his homework early, he curled up in an armchair by the fire and read.  It was a book that James had bought a long time ago in Hogsmeade because, he said, he suspected it was enchanted since everyone who'd ever begun it found themselves unable to put it down.  It was a fantastic story of good versus evil, one that took place in a world almost, but not quite, his own.  He made a compelling but remote picture, his eyes wide in the firelight as he turned page after page, unaware of the curious looks he drew.

At some point Sirius came in smelling of the cold and wind and looking as though a craftsman had fashioned him out of china, settled the curls onto his head and painted his cheeks with their flush.  Remus woke himself up almost reluctantly.

"How was it?" he asked, blinking madly.

"Incredible," Sirius said, his eyes fixed on the stars.  "Simply sublime."

"Where's James?"

"Oh, he and Lily snuck off somewhere.  They probably haven't got past aperitifs yet."

"Don't be vulgar, Sirius," he said.

"I'm not.  Where's Peter?"  
  


"Still not back."

"Oh."  Sirius looked down at his hands, which still wore Remus's gloves.  "Here you go," he said, pulling them off and tossing them to Remus.

"Thanks."  He caught them and met Sirius's concentrated dark gaze.  "What's wrong?"

"I need to ask you something."

"Okay."

"It's probably kind of stupid," Sirius muttered.

"I won't know till you tell me," said Remus gently.

Sirius took a deep breath.  "Willyouteachmetobecool?"

"What?" he said, astounded.  "I mean, why?  Why me?"

"You _are_ cool," Sirius said.  "You know how."

Remus sat up, fully awake now.  "What is it that you want me to teach you, exactly?"

"Just – how to be cool," Sirius said stubbornly.  "How you get people to look at you that way."

"Well, that's an easy one," Remus said.  "I don't.  In fact, I'd rather they didn't."

"Oh, that's bloody helpful, thanks," Sirius said irritably.  "I don't do anything either and no one looks after me like they want to grab a spoon and tuck in."

"Sirius, don't," he said.  "People might be listening."

Sirius sighed.  "Fine, we can talk upstairs."  He headed for the stairs without looking back.  Remus picked up his book and followed, noticing that people actually were staring at Sirius, but then he still had fuzzy light-pink earmuffs on.

Upstairs, Remus sat backwards in the desk chair and Sirius sprawled on the floor, resting his chin on his hands.  "So you don't _do_ anything," he said.

"Right."

"You just – act like yourself," Sirius said slowly, an idea shadowing his face.  "My God, that's it."

"What?"  
  


Sirius looked up at him, almost mysterious in his intensity.  "Remus, may I ask you a favor?"

"Anything short of felony," Remus said cheerfully.

"Can I be you for a day?"

"You mean with Polyjuice?" he said.  "Sure, but on one condition."

"What's that?"

Remus looked suddenly blinding, and Sirius realized that soon enough, that legendary smile would be his.  "Could you make it a day when you have Quidditch practice?"

"Done!" Sirius whooped, leaping to his feet.

"We have a Transfiguration test next week, too," Remus added hopefully.

"Oh, it won't be ready by then," Sirius said positively.  "Even if I have some preserved fluxweed, it'll still be three weeks."

"How much time until curfew?"

Sirius checked their antique cuckoo clock (he'd bought it at a garage sale and fixed it up with magic).  "An hour or so – why?  You feel like exploring the dungeons?"

Remus was already rummaging through Sirius's trunk.  "What'd you do with _Moste__ Potente Potions_, you slob?"

"I sleep with it under my pillow, of course," Sirius said, pawing through the desk drawers.  "Ah, here it is," he said.  "Remus, do you remember when you bought me this in Diagon Alley?  Was that second year or third?"

Remus preceded Sirius out the door.  "I think third."

"No, wait, it was second," Sirius said, "because that was the year Brune McGowan tried to buy a book of curses and the Ministry squad interrogated him for three hours, and I was so sure I was going to Azkaban because you bought me this."

"Oh, I remember now," Remus agreed.  "You're right, as usual."

Sirius smirked.  "Right."

* * *

Sirius had acquired some preserved fluxweed from somewhere (it wasn't part of the basic Potions kit, but Remus preferred not to ask Sirius such questions) and exactly three weeks later, the Polyjuice Potion was proceeding in textbook fashion.

"Isn't it gorgeous?" Sirius said reverently, spooning up a ladleful and inspecting it.  "I got the consistency just right."

"I don't suppose you could do anything about the taste?" Remus said.

"That might have some commercial application," Sirius admitted.  "Maybe when I've got some decent equipment… but for now, you and I will just have to endure."

"Okay," Remus said, watching Sirius pour out the contents of his cauldron into two separate bottles.  "How much do we have to drink each hour to stay each other?"

"Not a whole lot," Sirius said, scraping out the bottom of the cauldron.  "A few swallows ought to do it.  Are you ready?"

"Yeah."  They traded hairs and dropped them into their respective bottles; Sirius's hair turned the potion eraser pink and Remus's, pale green.

"Only you, Sirius," said Remus morosely, swishing his potion around.  "I wonder what the color of your Polyjuice says about your personality."

"Absolutely nothing," Sirius snapped.  "I read it once somewhere.  Come on, let's get this over with."  He raised his bottle.  "Here's to good looks, money and magic: They all make life a whole lot nicer."

"Well said."  They each took a mouthful and looked at the other in consternation.

"Cotton candy?"

"Wintergreen?"

Then they began to change.

Less than a minute later, Sirius was Remus and Remus, Sirius.  (For purposes of clarity, "Sirius" is the one who looks like Remus and thinks like Sirius.  "Remus" is the exact same as Sirius, only reversed.  It'll be fairly obvious which is which when they open their mouths anyway.)

"Oh my God this is weird," Remus said fervently, running a hand through Sirius's messy black hair, which was now his, in a manner of speaking.  "Do you _ever_ comb your hair?"

"Once a week and special occasions, whether I feel like it or not," Sirius said defensively.  "Damn, I should have brought a mirror.  I guess I don't really need it, though, I mean if I don't know what you look like by now –"  He broke off, looking at Remus who now looked like Sirius, and yelped in anguish.  "Do you really let me out like that every day?"

Remus crossed his arms, or rather Sirius's.  "I wish you'd thought of that before we traded bodies.  I'll see what I can do about this hair, but –"

"Don't touch it," Sirius said.  "If I have to look that bad, then so should you."

Remus smirked.  "Oh, I don't know.  I don't look so terrible as all that."

"Now you're starting to think like me," Sirius said, alarmed.  "This has got to stop.  I guess you can do something with my hair, but nothing too drastic, okay?"

"Weren't you the one who thought orange hair was cool?"

"That was five years ago," Sirius yelped.  "I've learned to love myself the way I am."

"And that's why you want to change bodies, is it?" Remus said, still smirking.

"Oh shut it," Sirius said irritably.  "You don't give me orange hair and I won't, er…"

"Don't worry," Remus said.  "I have to walk around like this, I'm not about to sabotage it."

"Right," Sirius said, relieved.

"Oh, that reminds me…"  Remus unpinned his prefect badge and gave it to Sirius.

"Hey wow!"  Sirius grinned, putting it on.  "I'm a prefect now."

"That's right, I guess you have hall duty," Remus said cheerily.

"Hall duty?" Sirius said.

"Yeah, you know.  No magic in the halls, that sort of thing."

"Oh God," Sirius groaned.  "I have to make sure the first years don't put Snot-Nose curses on each other?"

"Pretty much," said Remus.  "On the other hand, we get doughnuts once a month.  And there's always the prefects' bathroom."

"I've been in there a million times," Sirius said dismissively.  "So why did you want such a crappy job in the first place?"

"The badges are kind of cool."

"Oh my God.  And you get to play Quidditch."

"On your broom," Remus added happily.  "Doesn't it suck to be me?"

"It sure does," Sirius said.  "Let's get out of here.  And remember, every hour on the hour or we're toast."

Remus woke up the next morning and realized that he was a bug.  Then he realized that he had been dreaming.  Finally, he realized that he was in his own body and Sirius's bed.

"Shit," he muttered, fumbling for his bottle of Polyjuice.  "Every hour on the hour."  He swallowed some more potion and less than a minute later, he was Sirius.

"Hey, Sirius," James called.  "What's going on in there, something I should know about?"  He laughed at his own joke.

"Absolutely nothing," Remus said in a passable imitation of Sirius's indignant hauteur.  He emerged in yesterday's wrinkled, disheveled clothes to see Sirius as Remus, fully dressed and looking positively queasy.

"What's wrong with you?" Remus whispered.  "Something I ate doesn't agree with you?"

"I forgot I had to change."

Remus looked down at his feet and said, "Sweet heavens, I think I'm going to be sick."

James appeared, trying to knot his tie with one hand and dragging his bag with the other.  "You're going to be late, Sirius, breakfast in ten minutes."

"You two go ahead," Remus said faintly.  "I'll catch you up."

James shrugged, giving up on his tie.  "Okay, but Peter's gone already, you'll have to come down by yourself."

"That's quite all right," Remus said.

As they pounded down the steps, James said to Sirius, whom he naturally took for Remus, "What's wrong with him?"

"He accidentally swallowed a mouthful of Droobles before you came in last night," Sirius said.

"I'm surprised he doesn't look worse," James said.  "I did that once when I was seven and it took a whole day for the bloating to stop."

Remus, as Sirius, was fifteen minutes late to breakfast, which happened often enough normally that no one remarked it.  Remus dropped into his seat and said to Sirius, "I think I'm going to survive, no thanks to you."

"I didn't make you swallow that gum," Sirius said, widening his eyes in an attempt to seem innocent.  "How many times have I told you not to dance on tabletops while chewing gum?"

"You act like I did it on purpose," Remus grumbled, playing along with the ruse but still looking faintly murderous.

"Pumpkin juice?" Sirius asked sweetly, holding out the pitcher.

"Please."  Remus tried not to look at Sirius; it was too unnerving to see himself smiling back at him.

"So what do we have first?" Peter said quickly.

"Potions," James replied, wiggling his eyebrows at Sirius, who was of course Remus.  "You wanna tell us what we're doing today, Sirius?"

Remus suddenly realized that James was talking to him.  "Er – Inclemency Potion," he muttered, thankful now he'd read the assignment.

"Oh, that's not so bad," James said.

Remus, who had severe doubts as to whether he could actually brew the potion, looked frantically at Sirius.

"Can I be your partner?" Sirius said nonchalantly.  "I've read up on the Inclemency, but I'm not sure how well I'll be able to make it."

"No problem," Remus said, thinking that problems simply did not come any bigger than this one.

"Perfect," Peter said.  "You can help me out then, James."

James rolled his eyes.  "Peter, your basic problem with Potions is that you couldn't tell monkshood from wolfsbane if they were wearing signs around their necks."

"I could so," Peter said.

Remus took no part in the venomous verbal sniping that followed.  Instead, he thought about how sick he was feeling right then.  As they got up to leave for class, Remus suddenly realized it was an awful lot.

Sirius held him back, letting James and Peter go ahead of them, and whispered, "Stop worrying about the potion."

"But I can't be you," Remus said frantically.  "Someone's bound to figure it out.  Can't we at least tell James and Peter so they can help cover for us?"

Sirius's face took on a set, resolved expression reminiscent of James.  "I _can't_ tell him why we switched."

"Why not?"

"Too embarrassing," he said shortly.

"You told me," Remus pointed out.

"Because I knew you wouldn't laugh.  James would bust a gut if I told him," Sirius said with dismal certainty.

Remus had to admit Sirius was probably right.  "But what d'you think's going to happen when everyone sees that you – I mean I can't even make an Inclemency Potion?"

"You can," Sirius said, "and if you can't then I'll do it for you."

"But don't you think –"

Remus snipped off his sentence as they passed into the Potions lab and Professor Paquerette greeted him with a cheerful, "Hello, Sirius."

"Act like me," Sirius hissed, dragging Remus to a table in the middle of the room.  James and Peter were setting up two tables away.

"Are you insane?" Remus demanded, dropping his cauldron onto the table.  "I can't do this, it's –"

"Look happy," Sirius ordered in an undertone, turning the cauldron right side up.  "This is your favorite class of all time.  And don't forget the goggles."  He tossed them to Remus.  "Sirius wears them every day."

"Dear God," Remus groaned, wondering if the cauldron was big enough to drown himself in.  Just then, Professor Paquerette started class and Remus listened to her lecture with the attention of a castaway to his life preserver, covering an entire parchment with notes in less than half an hour.

"Wow," Sirius said.  "Being me seems to be good for you."

"Being me hasn't helped you yet," Remus snapped.  "Now give me a hand with this idiot potion."

"Why, Sirius," he said with false anxiety, opening their book to the proper page.  "That isn't like you at all."

"All right, Sirius?"  Professor Paquerette had appeared, looking concerned.

"Fine," Remus said.

"He swallowed a mouthful of Droobles last night," Sirius informed her.

"Oh dear," the Professor said.  "I do hope you thought to take some Peptical Potion."

"Of course," Remus said, because he was plainly supposed to know that potion and probably how to make it too.  Unluckily, he'd never heard of it.

"Then you'll be right as rain in a few hours," she said cheerfully, moving on to the next station.

Sirius and Remus traded looks of profound relief, but all Remus said was, "Let's get started."

As it turned out, the potion wasn't terribly difficult.  Remus had after all read the assignment, and he had had some little experience with potions.  So Remus thought that, as acting Sirius, he was qualified to add in the lightning sprouts.  Unfortunately Sirius, as actual Sirius, wanted to add them in too.  Remus, being Sirius, did not offer (as he might have in possession of his proper body) to share the sprouts equally.  Because he was holding the bag, he considered himself entitled to the privilege; because Sirius was their actual owner, he also considered himself so entitled.  Remus was preparing to upend the bag into the cauldron when Sirius put his hand over the bag's mouth and said, "Nuh-uh."

"What are you doing?" Remus snapped.  "Do you know what happens to your fingers when you touch those?"

"Do you know what happens to half the class when you dump fifteen lightning sprouts into this cauldron?" Sirius snapped back.  "Perhaps you ought to consult the glossary more often."  He flipped to the back of the book and read aloud: "Lightning sprouts should be added to potions one at a time and only while wearing dragonhide gloves."

"Fine," Remus said, setting the bag down and pulling on his gloves (or rather Sirius's).  "You've made your point.  May I proceed?"

"Before you go dumping the entire bag in," Sirius said, "you might consider that other people besides yourself would like to add some lightning sprouts."

"Listen, I am Sirius Black for the first and last time in my life," said Remus.  "You've always done everything in this class and I think that it's finally my turn."

"Remus wouldn't say something like that," Sirius yelled and dove for the bag with his bare hands, but Remus jerked it away from him – 

"Mister Lupin!"  That was the Professor, and she was decidedly not pleased.  When Sirius remembered she was talking to him, he blushed with shame and Remus realized gleefully that Sirius had never once received that tone from her in seven years of Potions.  "You do _not_ touch lightning sprouts with your bare hands.  Go ahead, Sirius," she said to Remus.

So Remus added lightning one drop at a time, smirking as Sirius fumed.

When all the potions were finished, Professor Paquerette took Sirius's and Remus's to test.  She held the cauldron in gloved hands while the students lined up on either side of her.

"I imagine that few, if any, of you will advance to study weather-working," she said.  "It is a difficult and obscure subject and there are only nine weather-workers of the highest level in the world today.  However, this will give you all the rain you will ever need," and she tossed the potion into the air before her.

The clear liquid hung there exactly as she had thrown it for a few seconds, a beautiful study in arrested motion, then it began to swirl, the liquid turning cloudy as it condensed into a thunderhead, and in a matter of minutes it was a miniature, livid gray storm cloud.

Then the storm broke.  For five minutes it rained furiously, lightning dancing through the cloud and occasionally, to the students' delight, striking the floor.  At last the rain tapered off, the cloud lightened and finally dissipated in wisps of clammy fog.

"Excellent.  Ten points to Gryffindor," she said, smiling at Sirius and Remus.  "Everyone, back to your tables to pack up, and please don't slip in the water here."

Sirius and Remus went to their table and cleaned up without saying a word to each other.

"Brilliant," James said to Sirius (actually Remus) on their way out.

"Stunning," Sirius said.

"CMC next," Peter said happily.

"Have fun with your moldy runes," James said to Remus, who was actually Sirius and on the verge of a panic attack.

"I don't know a damn thing about runes," he whispered to Remus, who shrugged.

"So now you know how I feel."

"At least you've taken Potions," Sirius retorted before he left them for Ancient Runes.

After their afternoon class, History of Magic (at least two of them had never been so thankful to be bored senseless) Sirius, as Remus, had three hours of hall duty.  He got back barely in time for dinner, dirty and frustrated and exhausted.

"Had enough?" Remus said quietly.  He was still wearing Sirius's Quidditch robes, which was the final straw for Sirius.

"Damn straight I have, Mister I'm-On-The-Team-So-Eat-My-Broomstick," he yelled.  "You have _no_ idea.  None at _all.  I'm going to tie you in one of the goalposts and pound you with the Quaffle until you're crying blood."_

"Come on," Remus said, and he stood up, taking Sirius by the arm, and they walked out of Great Hall together, every eye without exception fixed on the two of them.

They went straight down to Sirius's workroom and Remus locked the door behind them, saying, "You'll have to make some of the antidote, won't you?"

"Have some already," he muttered, taking two identical bottles out of a cupboard and handing one to Remus.  "Cheers."

They drank up and less than a minute later, they were back to their normal selves.

"Trade you robes?" said Sirius and "Sure," said Remus.  They traded and, after staring at each other silently a minute, both tried to talk at once.

"You first."

"No, you."

"Just say it, okay?"

"Fine."  Sirius sighed.  "I'm sorry I've been leaving you out of things in Potions.  It's just that I love it so much –"

"It's okay, really," Remus said.  "I'd never even thought about it before now.  I really did say some rotten things today, I don't honestly know what got into me –"

"Me," Sirius said.

Remus frowned.  "What?"

"If you turn into someone with Polyjuice, it isn't just you walking around in someone else's body," Sirius said.  "You act like that person to some degree, which depends on the relative strength of each personality and the amount of time you spend as that person.  So I guess I must be the stronger, I'd never thought about it…"

"But – if you don't mind my saying so – we both said some pretty nasty things, and neither of us is like that," Remus said.  "So was it like some sort of chemical reaction or what?"

"I have no idea," Sirius said, an arrested look in his face.  "What a research project that would make."

"Well," Remus said.  "Did you learn anything about cool?"

"Not a thing," Sirius said mournfully.  "I think I'm just going to buy myself a leather jacket instead.  But I did learn that being a prefect requires an arm of steel, a mind of diamond, and a heart of gold.  _Never again_."

"Gee, thanks," Remus said, grinning.  "I'm really sorry you had to go through all that, anyhow."

"I'm sorry _you_ had to," Sirius said.  "This whole fiasco was, after all, my idea."

Remus unexpectedly smiled and Sirius, with sharpened regret, realized that not once all day had he smiled as Remus.  "Playing Quidditch was worth it," he said.

"Something good came out of this, anyway," said Sirius as they left the room.  "You got to fly with the team and I have a glorious anomaly to investigate."

They ate their interrupted supper in the kitchen, which was equally as satisfying as the one they had missed.  When they returned to the common room, James was out with Lily again and Peter was gone again, so they did their homework companionably by the fireside, Sirius somehow making his experience in Ancient Runes into high comedy.  If it hadn't been Remus's own grade at stake, he would have found it even funnier.

The next day was a Saturday, Valentine's Day as it happened; James and Sirius went down to Hogsmeade and Sirius returned with a gorgeous leather jacket, which must have been insanely expensive, although Remus was afraid to ask.  (James returned with a present for Lily, luckily for everyone concerned.)  The jacket was indisputably cool, but Sirius wore it at every possible opportunity until people started to snicker, whereafter Sirius wore it only in the privacy of their dormitory.  And Remus began sometimes to sneak out under the Invisibility Cloak to watch the Gryffindor team practice.


	5. Birthday Boy

Chapter 5 – Birthday Boy

Sirius's birthday was February twentieth, which happened to fall on a Friday.  That Monday was the full moon, so Remus missed a day of schoolwork, including a Charms exam which he made up on Tuesday after class.  Fairly certain that he'd failed, Remus raced back to Gryffindor tower to tackle two days' worth of assignments.  Fifteen minutes into dinner, Sirius realized that Remus wasn't there and found him passed out over his Transfiguration book in the common room.  Remus refused to go to the hospital wing although he was plainly exhausted, because he knew he wouldn't be released for a full day and there was simply too much to do.  So James and Peter brought him dinner and Sirius doctored him with half a dozen potions.  

On Wednesday Remus woke up half an hour late, wore his slippers to Great Hall because he couldn't find his shoes (Peter had planted begonias in one) and for breakfast drank four cups of black coffee.  By Transfiguration, he was shaking so badly that Professor McGonagall ordered him to the hospital wing.  Naturally, Remus refused to go, but the threat of a full Body-Bind convinced him at last, and he went under his own power, albeit reluctantly, and slept for fourteen hours straight without any magical encouragement.  (When he was released, feeling much more civilized, Remus could appreciate the delicate irony of spending two days in hospital because of his attempt to avoid one.)

On Thursday, the evening before Remus's release, James and Peter arrived to visit Remus, and James was able to cajole Madame Pomfrey into letting them stay as long as they liked.

"Old coot," James said emphatically after they had all heard her office door close.  "Although I guess I'd be sour too if I had to stay in this stinking place all day tending to bratty second years who curse each other senseless.  But I don't expect she minds _you_ too much –"

"Hand me the basin, I'm about to be sick," Remus said.  "Can we please talk about something relevant, like Sirius?"

"Oh, so it's Sirius now, is it?" James said.  "I knew there was something between you two –"

"Nothing but good clean air," Remus retorted.  "And in case you'd forgotten, his birthday is tomorrow, you dipwad."

"Oh God."  James smacked his forehead theatrically.  "I completely forgot.  You guys, we ought to do something for him –"

"James, be more considerate of Remus," interrupted Peter.  "He's already exhausted, he doesn't need a heart attack on top of that."

"What better place than the hospital wing?" James said.  "Besides, Remus knew I was joking, didn't you, Remus?"

"You were?  Oh thank God," Remus said expressionlessly.

"See, Remus knew I wouldn't forget something like that."

"No, you just put it off till the last minute," Peter said.

"How ridiculous.  Of course I don't," said James.  "Now, what do you think about the cake?  I know the house-elves will give him one at breakfast, but shouldn't we do something special for his eighteenth?"

"Yeah, let's have them use a butterbeer-flavored frosting," Remus said.

"That's exactly what I was thinking," James said, awed.  "How did you know?"

"Let's get him Filibuster candles," Peter said gleefully.

"Now there's an idea," Remus approved.  "I thought of something else, too – I guess I can take care of it when I get out."

"Okay," James said.  "Everyone got him a present?"

"Yup," said Remus.

"Of course," said Peter.  "You?"

"Yes."  James looked offended.  "And I made it myself."

"Sure you did," Remus said.  "I suppose you have an evening trip to the Broomsticks or somewhere planned?"

"Actually not," James said.  "We're going to have a nice subdued celebration here at the school –"

"Nice try James, but no," said Remus.  "Even _I_ am not so naïve as to believe that one."

"I wasn't finished," James said.  "We have a tame party tomorrow after school, because he and I both need to rest up for the Quidditch game Saturday.  After we win, the real fun begins."

"You got me," said Remus, impressed.  "Nice fake-out.  That reminds me, how'd you get rid of birthday boy?"

"We didn't even have to," Peter said.

"Thank the Lord, he's getting somewhere on your potion at last," James said.  "He's spent the entire evening down there, so it must be something good."

"I'm such a fool," Remus said.  "For a second I thought you cared more about getting Sirius out of the way than curing lycanthropy."

"Well, it's convenient, you have to admit," James said.  "And I wouldn't be so sure he's working on your potion.  He went out to get some ingredients yesterday and I could have sworn he came back with rosehips and fairy dust among other things, but wait – maybe it _is_ yours after all."

"Are you getting sick of this?" Remus asked the ceiling.  "Me, too."

"All I know is I wouldn't drink just anything he gives you," James said.  "Particularly if it's pink."

Remus thought suddenly of Polyjuice Potion.

"Rosehips and fairy dust can be used in other things besides Love Potions, you know," Peter pointed out.

"At last," said Remus.  "The Voice of Reason speaks."

James hmphed.  "Well, you know what they say about protesting too much."

"What's that?" Peter said.

"It's highly suspicious and usually means that the accusation is true but you can't admit it.  Star-crossed love," and James sighed gustily.

"Do you ever read bad novels where the accusation is actually false?" Remus said.

"Read?  Why would I do an idiot thing like that?" James said.

"Where else would you get an idiot idea like that?"

"From bad TV shows, of course," James said.  "At least I get to say I told you so at the end, but everyone's so happy that it doesn't really give me the satisfaction of being right."

"Who was the one who wanted to talk about something relevant?" said Peter.  "Oh, I remember now."

"Any more party business?  Good," said Remus.  "So where's the curtain and chamber pot ensemble to cheer me up?"

"Oh, we figured you'd be out by tomorrow," James said.  "You will be out, right?"

"Of course," Remus said.  "I'll sweet-talk Pomfrey into it, and if she doesn't take it then I'll use my trump card."

"Your dubious charms?"

"Sirius's birthday, you prat.  Now get out of here."  Remus adjusted his pillows.  "Your pale, sickly friend is desperately in need of some sleep."

"You've been sleeping all day, you lying toadspawn," said Peter.

"You'll be pale and sickly over my dead body," added James.  "Who climbs onto the roof every spring when he thinks no one's looking for a good long broil in the sun?"

"No one else I know," Remus said.  "Certainly not you."

"I'm leaving, bye now," James said loudly, walking out the door.

Peter stayed long enough to say, "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me."

"Thank the Lord, now I can rest easy," Remus said.

"If you want, I can even ask Sirius how he feels about you."

"Not you too," Remus said despairingly.  "Why is everyone convinced that Sirius and I secretly want in each other's robes?"

"It makes a darn good storyline," said Peter, and fled.

Too late, Remus realized that he and Sirius had already gotten in each other's robes, in a slightly different sense.  He was even beginning to feel a bit pale and sickly.

"Heaven preserve me," he groaned.  "I think I'm being corrupted."

"More medicine?"  Madame Pomfrey had appeared from somewhere, smiling sweetly.  Remus wondered wildly where the basin had gone.  The medicine was purple, but that did not make him feel any better.

* * *

Remus had a bit of difficulty convincing Madame Pomfrey to release him, but release him she did and just in time for breakfast.  Remus was thankful, not only because he was anxious to see how well the house-elves had carried out his instructions regarding the cake.  The hospital wing seemed to affect his sensibilities adversely; his dreams last night had been bizarre beyond description, and he was still occasionally reminded of them in unpleasant ways as he pondered his toast.

Fortunately the house-elves were right on schedule.  Eighteen of them appeared, singing "Happy Birthday" in as many keys, the one in the lead bearing a platter on which rested a head of Romaine lettuce.  The students collectively found this very amusing and the laughter crescendoed as it became apparent who the birthday boy was.

"Oh darn, they messed it up," Peter said loudly.

"It's okay, Peter," hissed James, which happily Sirius did not hear.  The elves had already stopped at his place and Sirius was beaming at them, the hall quieting in hopes of a memorable reaction.

"Why, how did you know?" Sirius said delightedly.  "I _hate_ lettuce."

This was pretty good; even the elves grinned.

"If you don't mind, I'll just have a leaf," Sirius said, reaching out, but he put his finger into icing instead, red- and gold-colored that said "Happy Legal Adulthood" and eighteen Filibuster candles which went off all at once, showering everyone in the vicinity with rainbow sparks.

Dumbledore led the cheering and another chorus of "Happy Birthday"; Sirius yelled gleefully, "Lettuce courtesy of Remus Lupin," and the accused grinned guiltily; half the Gryffindor table had a nice large piece of cake to start off the morning.

Things calmed down slightly during the day, although Sirius was apt to receive several comments and congratulations between every class.  (Thanks to his new status as Gryffindor Chaser, his notoriety had shot up another few percentage points.)  Still, all four of them were waiting with more than their usual impatience for the final bell, and when it finally rang they were first out the door, whooping like loons.

They went back upstairs to put their books away and James said, "Okay, follow me," in his best mysterious voice.

"A trip!" Sirius said happily.  "This day does nothing but improve."

They went down through the school, exchanging greetings or insults with everyone they passed, and left through the front door.  Even when it became obvious that James was leading them towards the lake, he refused to answer any of Sirius's excited questions until they arrived at a willow tree with a single red ribbon tied to one of its branches.

"Birthday boy first," James said, sweeping aside the branches, and Sirius went in, followed closely by Remus and Peter.

Judging by the size of the space (it was practically as big as their dormitory) and its relative warmth, James must have been working on it for a week at least.  Judging by the spread of delicacies threatening to swamp Sirius's presents, he must also have made a trip to Honeydukes and probably one to Zonko's, knowing James.  The dancing patterns of sunshine created by a light breeze off the lake were no magic but the willow's own.

"Food!" Sirius said happily, sitting down at a table and unwrapping a Chocolate Bullfrog.  James, Peter and Remus scrambled for the remaining seats, knowing that speed was essential if they wanted to save anything from Sirius's ravening appetite.  (Sirius had the enviable faculty of being able to eat at any time, anything he liked.  He seemed never to get full.  The time after the Halloween feast his second year when he had polished off an entire cake was already legend.  Compared to Sirius Black in his prime, Crabbe and Goyle seemed positively picky.)

In a remarkably short time, nothing remained but empty wrappers, and James and Sirius were engaged in a tug of war for the last licorice rope.  James let go abruptly and Sirius tumbled right out of the willow and into the lake, if the splashing noises outside were any indication.

"Oops," James said, not looking too repentant.  "Last one's yours – happy birthday!"

"Thanks."  Sirius parted the willow and re-entered, looking mutinous.  "I suppose you didn't know that the squid liked licorice, did you?"

"That could be useful sometime," James said solemnly.  "In case I ever decide to go diving for the secret hidden treasure of the lake, I'll be sure not to take a licorice rope to bring it back up with."

"Secret hidden treasure of the lake," Sirius snorted.  "We all know there's nothing in that lake but seaweed and merpeople and a _lot_ of fish."

"If you recall," Remus said, "you two started that rumor."

"And what a coup that was," Sirius said fondly.  "James, I will never forget you running around screaming with your trunks full of seaweed."

"What does that have to do with treasure?" Peter said.

Sirius shrugged.  "Nothing really.  Just another lake-related memory with which I can embarrass James."

"Be quiet and open your presents, you slug," James said.  "Start with the big one, it's from me.  No, that big one."

Sirius ripped it open to find his scarlet cloak which now read _Gryffindor Chaser_, in gold thread of course.

"Hey wow!" Sirius said, admiring the letters.  "This is gorgeous, James, I had no idea you embroidered.  We ought to start a club – Domestic Males Anonymous."

"I don't embroider, actually," James said.  "I tried but it ended up looking like the Snitch, so Remus bailed me out.  He stayed up until three fixing it, didn't you?"

"I believe it was only two forty-five," said Remus.

"So wait, I'm confused.  Peter gave me the cloak, Remus did the lettering, what did you do?" he said to James.

"I, er – had the idea."

"James, you'll make a wonderful manager someday," Sirius said.  "Thank you, everyone, it's fabulous."

The next present was from Remus.  It was a set of Ravenclaw bed curtains.

"Now this I have to hear," James said gleefully.

"Okay then," Remus said.  "I was talking to Rohanna Lynch, she's in my Ancient Runes class, and she just happened to mention how witty and charming she found our Sirius, so I naturally asked her if she'd be willing to trade you her bed curtains, and –"

"Wait just a second," James said.  "Sirius isn't in Ancient Runes, how would she know?"

"Oh, the entire school knows Sirius," said Remus vaguely.  "At any rate, she must be very much in love with him, because she agreed to give him the curtains a day ahead so I could wrap them.  I have to take Sirius's back down today."

"_You_ have to take them?" James repeated.  Sirius looked as though he was beginning to understand.

"Of course.  She says she doesn't want Sirius to see her dorm all messy.  Well, you know a Ravenclaw's idea of messy."

"I suppose she left her shoes on the floor," James snorted.  "You ought to bring her up to ours and educate her about messy."

"Well, I don't –" Sirius began.

"By the way, the Lynch that plays for the Appleby Arrows is her cousin," Remus interrupted.

"What about Aidan Lynch, on Slytherin?" James said.

"Her brother."

"Sounds like you had a nice chat," said James, smirking.  "Maybe she mistook you for Sirius."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Remus said, sharing a grin with Sirius.

"Be sure to tell her thanks from me," Sirius said.  "All right, Peter, now for yours."

He pulled off the paper and found himself face-to-face with a lizard, stretched out in its cage and looking at him unblinkingly.

"He's great," Sirius said happily.  "Does he have a name?"

"It's up to you," Peter said, grinning.

Sirius squinched his eyes shut to think.  "How about Delmar?"

"Are you crazy?" James said.  "It's never even seen the sea, probably."

"Huh?"

"_Del_ _mar_, of the sea," James said.  "Duh."

"How'd you know that?" Remus asked.

"I know a lot of things," James said.  "You'd be surprised."

"Delmar it is," Sirius said.  "Baby, you and I are going to the sea, just as soon as I get me some money."

"Crazy," said James regretfully.

"So what does he eat?" Sirius asked.

"Oh, just about anything," Peter said.  "He seems to like flies a lot, though."

"Any food left?" Sirius said.  "I wish I had some Cockroach Cluster right about now."

"You ate everything, remember?" Remus said.

"You helped," Sirius said.  "I wonder if he'll eat leaves?"  He broke off a branch and stuck it into the cage.  "Well, thank you, everyone, it was a lovely birthday," he said, "but James, I'm a bit curious as to why we didn't hold the usual soirée at the Three Broomsticks."

Remus sniggered.  "This one's all yours, James."

"In case you'd forgotten," James said, "there is a Quidditch match tomorrow and the team goes to bed at nine o'clock."

"Ah," Sirius said.  "I knew there would be an element of sacrifice involved in playing Quidditch, but I had no idea it would be so painful."

"I'm thinking of putting the team on a diet," James said.  "No sweets of any kind for starters."

"You doing anything tonight?" Peter inquired of Remus.

"No, you?"

"Oh shut it," said Sirius.

* * *

Sirius woke up at five thirty-six the next morning, shivering madly even under three blankets.

"Oh God, I think I have pneumonia," he said to himself.  Sitting up, clutching his blankets around him, Sirius realized that his beautiful blue curtains were flapping as if in a breeze.  Pulling them aside, he discovered that it was in fact a breeze, which was coming from the wide-open window.

Sirius gave his curtain a decisive yank and it fell down on top of him.  Wrapping himself in its folds, he padded over to the window and wrenched it closed, muttering, "I think I'm going to get pneumonia.  Now what kind of idiot would leave a window open all night in February?"

"That was you, actually."

"Remus!"  Sirius whirled around.  "Did I wake you?"  
  


"No, I just heard you talking."  Remus emerged from behind his curtains, scuffing his feet into his slippers.  He rubbed his eyes and said, "You looked like a prince for a second there."

"Yes, blue becomes me, doesn't it?"  Sirius smirked at himself.  "Whoever wrote the dress code for this school must not have known how awful I look in black.  I suspect it was Salazar Slytherin."

"I couldn't agree more," Remus said.  "You look like such a scarecrow in black."

"Really?" said Sirius, looking horrified.

"Well, you keep saying that.  But wouldn't you rather look like a demented sheepdog?"  Remus scowled at himself.  "I thought not."

"Oh, is it time for a haircut again?" Sirius said happily.  "Hand me the scissors."

"I'm not letting you near my head with scissors ever again," Remus said emphatically.  "Not after last time."

"Nothing a few spells couldn't fix," Sirius said.  "Besides, how will I ever learn to cut hair if you won't let me practice?"

"I see you've found a new calling," Remus remarked.  "What a pity to waste your potion-making skills, but hairdressing is a noble trade."

Sirius blushed.  "Well, I'm going to have to earn my living somehow, won't I?"

"You could open a bar," Remus suggested.  "Or teach Potions."

"Ugh, why would I ever do that?" Sirius said.  "Students are such disrespectful dullards."

"I quite agree," Remus said.  "Would you hand me the mirror?"

"So you _are_ going to cut your hair," Sirius said triumphantly.

"Quiet, you're going to wake James.  No, I think I'm just going to admire my gorgeous self instead."

"It's a popular diversion," Sirius admitted, giving him the mirror.  "If you discover the attraction, do let me know.  I'm rather curious to find out."

"It must be in the eye of the beholder, because I can't find it either," Remus said.  "Actually, hold the mirror while I look for the scissors."

"Learned your lesson about summoning pointy objects, did you?" said Sirius.

Remus flinched.  "Yeah, I'm not too keen on having a pair of scissors buried in my palm."  He went over to the desk and sifted through stacks of parchment, muttering, "I know I set them down over here when I finished wrapping your gift."

Sirius looked up.  "Oh, did you get the other curtains to Rohanna last night?"

"Uh-huh," said Remus, now searching the drawers.  "She really did enjoy your antics in Runes, by the way."

"But she thought it was you, didn't she," Sirius said sagely.

"Well, you did look an awful lot like me at the time," Remus admitted, grinning.  "Besides, Polyjuice is illegal, I couldn't exactly tell her you were me, then we'd both be down for Azkaban."

"Right," Sirius said.  "That's quite clever of you, but I wish you'd thought to use your charming personality on some pretty girls while you were me."

"Sorry," Remus said.  "I admit I was a bit disconcerted in Potions.  Rats, I can't find those scissors anywhere."

"Would James or Peter have them?" Sirius said quickly.

"I don't know why they would."

"You could always summon them," Sirius suggested.

"And poke another hole in myself.  Thank you, but no.  I've had enough of the hospital wing to keep me for another lifetime," Remus said.  "I suppose I'll just have to spend the day looking disreputable."

"You'll probably make it the new craze," Sirius said.

"You'd better hope I do, because it seems to be your style of choice.  Do you even remember the last time you had a haircut?"

"Actually I don't," Sirius said.  "It must not have been too traumatic then."

Remus sighed.  "If you're so talented, why not cut it yourself?"

"It wouldn't be the same," Sirius said.  "Having this haircut is critical to my self-perception."

"But it isn't very aerodynamic, is it?"

Sirius snorted.  "I doubt my hairstyle is going to severely impair my game."

"Huh," Remus said unhelpfully.

"Well, I suppose I'd better get dressed," Sirius said.  "Put this back up, would you?"  Sirius tossed Remus the curtain and began to hunt for his Quidditch scarf.

It took Sirius a full hour to find and put on his outfit.  In that time Remus had gotten dressed and cleaned most of the parchments off the desk in his quest for scissors.

"Pathetic," Sirius muttered, lacing up his boots.

James pulled open his curtains, eyes squinched shut.  "Sirius, get me my regular curtains back," he demanded.  "I can't stand this awful yellow."

"All right, all right," Sirius grumbled.  "Anything else?"

"Changing rooms at ten-thirty sharp," James said.  "We have to have time to sing all fifteen verses of our theme song before the game starts."

"I only know the first eight," Sirius whispered frantically to Remus.

"If James gives you any trouble, ask to see his copy of the lyrics," Remus whispered back.  "He keeps one in his Quidditch robes."

Sirius grinned.  "Hey, thanks."

At eleven o'clock, Remus and Peter took their places in the stands in pleasant anticipation.  Every Quidditch match that is described anywhere has something unusual happen during it, and our two spectators were hoping for an invasion of the field, or at the least a new and inventive foul to add to their list (provided it was Ravenclaw's fault).  However, the only unusual thing to happen was that Gryffindor lost.

"It wasn't your fault," James said comfortingly to Sirius as he led the team off the field, stoically ignoring the wild cheers from the Ravenclaw team.  "The three of us scored five goals, it's just that their Seeker got in ahead of Abelman –"

"I feel like such a rat," Sirius groaned.  "Like I let down the team."

"No, that's my job," Peter said cheerily, coming up to them with Remus close behind.

"Don't feel bad, Sirius, you flew really well," Remus added.

"Yeah, I guess we'd better have a party for you, hadn't we?" said James.

"Well, not if you don't feel like it," Sirius said.

"Okay then.  I should probably go talk to Lily, if I can even look her in the eye.  We'll get 'em next time, eh?" and James was off.

"This is our last year, there is no next time," Sirius said darkly to Remus and Peter.  "I suppose that ungrateful git wants me to return his curtains while he's off canoodling with Lily."

"James isn't ungrateful," Peter said.

"No, I think he's more the thoughtless type," Remus agreed.

"You're right," Sirius said.  "If he thought a bit more about consequences, he wouldn't be half so brave."

"It isn't his fault we lost," Remus pointed out gently.

"Fine, it's my fault, now I feel so much better," Sirius said.  "I'm going to go drown myself in the lake now.  You can have my broom once I'm gone if you like, Remus."

"You don't want to drown yourself now, though," Remus said.  "It's so cold in February.  Wait until May or June at least."

"You're right again, I suppose," Sirius said.  "Besides –" he brightened a little – "think how boring your lives would be without me."

"Insupportable," Peter agreed.

"Oh, and Remus, I'd be obliged if you'd cut my hair whenever you find the scissors.  Even if it didn't actually slow me down, you can't be too careful."

"Of course not," Remus agreed, suppressing a smile.

* * *

Gryffindor's defeat didn't keep Sirius down for long, particularly once Remus discovered the scissors under his bed (but still clueless as to how they'd arrived there.  "Maybe we've got gnomes," James had suggested wisely).  Monday evening Sirius, his usual buoyancy fully restored, was lying on his stomach in the dormitory perusing their calendar.  Remus was at the desk working, James off helping Lily with her homework and Peter on a mission to trade in his Hufflepuff curtains for a Slytherin pair.  ("That way we can have all four houses in one room," he'd said happily.  James had merely rolled his eyes and said, "How incisive of you.")

"Don't you have some kind of potion to invent?" Remus said irritably to Sirius.  "Not all of us finished our questions three hours ago, you know."

"Everyone else seemed to," Sirius said lightly.  "Oh no," he added in a tragic voice.

"What now?" Remus snapped, flinging down his quill, which accidentally went out the open window.  "Curse it, that's my third best one, too."

"Tomorrow's Mardi Gras," Sirius said.

"Whoop de doo," Remus said, hunting maniacally for another quill.  "What're you going to do about it?"

Not much, it turned out.  Oh, there were the chickens that marched down the aisles at breakfast with their plumage dyed green, gold and purple in honor of the day.  There was the elaborate feathered mask that Sirius insisted on wearing all day, even in lieu of his goggles during Potions.  There were the cascades of beads adorning the suits of armor, and of course not even Hagrid seemed to be able to catch the chickens, so they caused a bit of mayhem in the corridors between classes.  But all in all, the spectacle was far below the stringent standards to which Sirius normally held himself.  When James pointed this out, Sirius merely shrugged.

"I only had one evening to put it together, and you know I need at least four hours of sleep to function," he said.

"I wish I could function on four hours of sleep," James remarked.

"If you took as much Wakefulness Potion as I do, you'd probably only need four hours too."

"Isn't that stuff supposed to be addicting?"

"Course not," Sirius said.  "I can quit whenever I want."

It was also Sirius who persuaded them to go for a butterbeer or two at the Three Broomsticks.  All of them, that is, but Remus.

"I don't want to," Remus said for the fifteenth time.

"Why not?" Sirius whined.  "Please, pretty please with a cherry on top."

"I hate cherries, you know that."

"You're no fun."

"I'm well aware of that," Remus said irritably.

"I'll go drown myself in the lake," Sirius threatened.

"Over my dead body."

"Come on, what're you going to do with yourself all night?"

"Summon a few evil spirits and have a nice friendly hand of poker with them.  What else?"

In the end, Sirius gave up and he, James and Peter left through the convenient secret tunnel just down the hall from the portrait that let out into an abandoned garage on the main street.  Its only disadvantage was the quite large grease stains they sometimes gathered crawling across the ground, even for such a relatively short distance; yet another reason to be thankful for the discretion of house-elves.  They all straightened their robes and exited the garage as if they owned it, heading down the main street towards the Three Broomsticks.  James returned the smile of a pretty witch walking the other way.

"Not too bad," James muttered to his friends, carefully not moving his lips.

"Oh my God, how gorgeous," Sirius said.

"You're not so bad either," the girl returned as James said, "Well, so you wake up at last.  I admit you've had me thinking that maybe you and Remus –"

"No, _that_."  Sirius pointed across the road and James and Peter saw a gleaming motorcycle parked in front of a ramshackle cottage.  A for-sale sign was propped against the front wheel.

"I have to have it," Sirius said, his eyes gleaming almost as much as the bike.

"Sirius, I think you need a driver's license to ride one of those," James pointed out as gently as he could.

"Actually, a motorcycle license," Peter said.

"Plenty of time for that once I get it," Sirius said dismissively.  "The real question is how to scrape up the gold."

"How do you think you're going to get it anywhere if you can't drive it?" James said.

"And where would you keep it?" Peter added.  "Somehow I don't see Dumbledore letting you park it on the lawn."

But Sirius was already jogging across the street, presumably to have a closer look at his new love.  Peter and James traded despairing looks, and followed.

"Two hundred Galleons," Sirius said miserably when they caught up with him.  "I've never even seen that many Galleons in one place that weren't fakes, or candy or something."

"Didn't you get some birthday money?" James said, running an appraising hand over the seat.  "Good leather, that is."

"Yeah, Mum and Dad sent me two Galleons," Sirius said.  "And they told me to buy something useful with it.  I'd better not be expecting much fiscal support from _them_."

"I'll give you five if you let me take Lily out on it," James said.

"I'll give you five if I can drive it through the forest sometime," Peter said.

"Great," Sirius said.  "Assuming I can get Remus to give me five too, that only leaves me with –"  He thought, counted on his fingers, ran out and had to borrow Peter's.  "One hundred eighty-three Galleons to earn, borrow or steal – probably steal.  Maybe I can sneak into Gringotts."

"That's just suicide," said James, tracing the headlamp with his finger.  "You know what happened to that Dark wizard they caught in there around Christmastime."

"I guess they've got families to think of too," Peter said.

"Don't be daft.  Dark wizards haven't got anything but black ice for a heart."

"You could sell some of your potions," Peter said.

Sirius snorted.  "I already do.  You know how much I get per flask?  One Sickle, and that barely covers the cost of ingredients."

"So figure out how to get back your golding potion and set up your own mint," James said.

"Oh my God, that's it," Sirius breathed.  "You guys, I have to get back to the castle."

"_No_," they said in unison.

"I'll read every book I own to that damn lock if that's what it takes to find the magic word –"

"Sirius, it's Mardi Gras," James said.  "It only comes once a year, you know, and this is our last at Hogwarts."

"What happened to butterbeer and carousing and the all-night buffet?" Peter added, an appeal to the gourmand in Sirius which unfortunately backfired.

"I won't spend a single Knut on butterbeer, not while this is in the world," and Sirius looked meaningfully at the bike.

In the end James won out by reminding Sirius that the trip had been entirely his own idea, along with a few well-placed threats to make his life exceedingly miserable, both on the Quidditch field and off.  So Sirius went, but grudgingly and immersed in his shining new dream.  Indeed, Sirius bought not even a butterbeer and only ate whatever he could sneak off the others' plates, and he was so distracted that he failed to start even a minor argument.  Without him, Mardi Gras was nothing, so reluctantly James and Peter trailed an elated Sirius back up to the castle hours earlier than either of them had expected.

Remus was curled up by the fire again, mostly asleep, his head on a pillow that had been clumsily transfigured from a schoolbook, if the still-legible title was any indication.  Sirius catapulted onto the couch next to him and yelled, "Wake up Remus, good news."

"You've signed up for your first lesson in tact?"  Remus stretched catlike, nearly sending his book-pillow into the fire as he sat up and blinked sleepily at Sirius.  "No, I think you must have been in hospital during that one."

Sirius tried to look angelic, which on him was forlorn.  "Remus, good friend, I need five Galleons."

"News first, solicitations later.  I want to hear what my gold is going for, and it had better not be the Sirius Black slush fund."

James looked at Peter, a look that said all his suspicions were back in spades.  They both retreated hastily to the dormitory.

"Motorcycles," said James, closing the door carefully and sealing it with some kind of spell.  "They're dangerous enough alone, but then you add the gold and Sirius is in well over his adorable curly head."

"Adorable, you said?"  Peter retreated a step or two.

"Oh, don't be so suspicious."

"You are," Peter felt obliged to point out.

"That's different.  I have a girlfriend."

Peter recognized a dead end when he saw one.  "D'you think Sirius'll get his two hundred Galleons?" he asked instead.

James laughed.  "Not in this lifetime.  Not unless he holds you for ransom."

The door flew open; Sirius was practically dragging Remus by his sleeve.  "I'll give you three if I can help you break the lock," Remus was saying.

"You can spare five," Sirius said emphatically.

"I locked that door," James yelped.

"Not too well, apparently."

"Fine, take the bloody five."  Remus began searching through his trunk, flipping Sirius the coins one by one.

Sirius grinned, turning them over in his hand.  "Boys, if you have your five handy –"

Grumbling a bit, the other two turned to their trunks.  Peter gave up his gold fairly readily, but James was frowning into his trunk, motionless.

"What, did you take out a loan with the leprechauns?" Sirius said.

"My robes –"  James held one out.

"Inside-out," Sirius said shakily.

"Witchcraft," said Peter.

James laughed, and there was no mirth in it.  "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, had you forgotten?  This is Dark stuff, here."

"But only a Gryffindor –" said Remus.

"Or," James said, "a Slytherin who knows a Gryffindor."


	6. Just Fooling

Chapter 6 – Just Fooling

The invasion took place on March first.  Sirius knew that because it was exactly a month before April Fool's Day, and as he tidied his laboratory, he was wondering what type of clever ruses he might perpetrate this year.  The hardest part of having such a reputation, Sirius reflected, was not earning it, but keeping it.  All very well to set invisible triplines and sabotage the showerheads during first year, but Sirius was pursuing ever-greater heights of devilry, and topping last year's spectacle would be difficult indeed.  Sirius allowed himself to dwell for a moment on what he considered his greatest triumph to date, not least because he had contrived to pin the blame on James, who was actually innocent for once.  No doubt James remembered it too, although somewhat less fondly, and Sirius resolved to be extra cautious when opening doors for several days beforehand.

He opened the dormitory door and beheld a spectacle worthy of his considerable talent.

Had it not involved his room and his belongings, Sirius might have been able to take an academic interest in the destruction.  It was undoubtedly the work of a professional.  He could see that simply by the way their clothes had been dispersed.  It looked as though the entire room had just come out of a spin cycle.  However, those were his clothes (some of them, it was impossible to tell which) and those were his papers burning merrily in the wreck of the armoire.

"_My experiments_," Sirius howled, launching himself over to the fire.  He saw at once that it was hopeless.  His papers appeared to have been shredded beforehand, although they were so thoroughly burnt that it was hard to be sure of even that much.  About then he looked up and realized the other three were watching him.

"Sorry, Sirius," said Remus.  "We would have gotten you but there's nothing to be done, really."  He gestured to another, larger pile of ashes.  "If it helps, my story's gone too."

"Your story?"  Sirius felt numb.  Five years ought to have made a bigger fire than that, he thought.  "You don't have a copy?"

"Of course not," Remus said.  "Would you keep a copy of your diary?"

"Well no, but –"  Sirius broke off, went over to his bed and picked up his diary.  The cover was solid but the pages disintegrated, covering the floor with a fine confetti.  "I don't suppose it was too bright of me to write the magic word on the back cover," he said, looking at the dust that had been his words.

"Luckily pixies can't read," James said.

Sirius whipped around.  "Pixies?"

"One actually, we think," Peter said.

"_One_ pixie?"  Sirius looked around again, slowly.  "I would love to see the pixie that could do this."

"At least it had the decency to leave our clothes intact," said Remus, "if somewhat disorganized."

"Well, all but our Quidditch cloaks," James said.  "Someone said they saw them up on the roof of the turret.  I was going to get my broom and fly up there later."

"That settles it then," Sirius said.  "Slytherin must be behind this somehow.  They're probably sore because we're winning the Quidditch tournament."

"In that case it could be Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff," pointed out Remus, ever impartial.

"Yeah, but Slytherin's in last place," said Sirius.  "Plus they all hate us, you know that."

Remus sighed.  "Time for that later.  What else got ruined?"

"Besides the Map?" James said.  It was in its accustomed place, but Remus's green ink was splattered all across it.  Below it on the floor was the smashed bottle.

Sirius snorted.  "Crude Slytherin symbolism, but at least we can restore it."

"Oh, and the Invisibility Cloak's gone."  James's voice was pointedly cool, but they all knew it was the only thing James had from his father and worth half a year of Galleons besides.

"The Slytherins'll have it, if it was them," Sirius said.

"Once we restore the map, we can watch it to see if they're using it," James reasoned.  "If not –"

"It could be hiding something," Peter said.  "Anything else missing?"

"Nothing comes to mind," Sirius said dully.  "Still, that is a possibility."

"How's your stuff, Peter?" said Remus.  "Did any of your literary ambitions get turned into kindling?"

"My Gryffindor championship T-shirt is all black," Peter said.  "Smells like ink, too."

"The one that your mum bleached?" Remus said.

"More evidence of a Slytherin attack," Sirius said.  "They're probably still mad about that one because we won in spite of their stinking little tricks."

James rose.  "I'm going to get our cloaks, Sirius, I'll be right back."  He went out.

Sirius sat down listlessly on his bed.  The curtains were stuffed in between the wall and the mattress, and the sheets were nowhere in sight.  He noticed his bookbag half underneath the bed and pulled it open, dreading what he might find.

Everything seemed untouched until Sirius flipped through his Transfiguration book; he discovered that the pages were hopelessly out of order and worse, some of them plainly belonged to his other textbooks.  Sirius frowned and said, "Don't you think this is a bit advanced for a pixie?"

Remus came over and took the book out of his hands.  "These are probably just Switching Spells, but you're right, pixies don't have any magic worth speaking of.  More likely it's fairies."

"But they wouldn't do something like this," Sirius said.  "Fairies aren't exactly brainy, and they're not malicious, unless –"

"The Slytherins, I know," Remus said wearily.  "You've told us."

Sirius said, "Considering the fact that we haven't seen a single sign of _any_ magical creature –"

"I know what it could be," Remus interrupted.  "Imps."

"That does make sense," Sirius said.

"Peter, you're the magical creatures expert, what d'you say?"

Peter looked up from trying to untangle his curtains.  "Sorry, I wasn't listening."

Remus repeated himself and Peter said, "It seems like imps to me, but there's really no way to tell for sure."

"Of course not, they aren't going to leave their little footprints on the floor," Sirius snapped.  Just then James swooped in the window and dropped Sirius's Quidditch things on the floor.  

"None of it's hurt, but our scarves were flying off the top like some idiot flag," said James as he dismounted.  "Also, I just remembered – I locked that door when we left."

"What about the window?" Remus said.

"I'm fairly sure it was closed last time I saw it," said James.

"That really settles it then," Sirius said.  "It would take a strong wizard –"

"Or witch," said Remus.

" – to break those enchantments, and Severus Snape –"

James was looking at Sirius oddly.  "You broke those enchantments a week ago."

"So I did," said Sirius, blushing slightly.  "Which is why I'm certain that Snape could also do it."

James appeared vastly uncomfortable.  "I hate to say this, but we can't rule out sabotage.  Any of us is capable of breaking those enchantments."

"Except maybe for Peter," said Sirius.

"I should probably be mad about that," Peter said, "but I'm not."

"Do you think any one of us would destroy our own things?" Remus said.  "Would I burn my story, for example?"

"Of course not," said James, "but I thought it should be mentioned, at least."

"Thank you for that," said Sirius.

"Right, magical creatures," said Remus.  "Pixies are out, they can't do magic.  Fairies aren't intelligent or malicious enough.  Imps –" Remus summoned Peter's copy of _Fantastic Beasts_ and read the entry silently to himself.  "And imps," he said, looking up at the rest of them, "cannot fly."

"Much as it pains me to admit it," Sirius said, "I stand in the presence of a more skilled mischief-maker than myself."

"No," Remus said.  "This is just plain vicious."

"I quite agree," James said.

"Remus, I'm sorry about your story," Sirius interrupted, knowing he sounded guilty but not caring.  He was innocent and he knew it, and that was all that mattered.

"It's okay."

And Sirius wondered how he could say that when everything was patently not okay.

* * *

That Saturday they went to Hogsmeade.  (In case you weren't counting, this is their fifth visit so far.)  Even James admitted that they probably spent more time in the village than they did at home during breaks, but this trip actually had a legitimate purpose.  All four of them needed to stock up on quills, ink, parchment and other scholastic necessities that the mysterious invader had trashed.  (Remus had fortunately been able to salvage their books; he was the only one of them patient enough to perform several hundred Switching Spells per book.)  Naturally they took the opportunity to visit Zonko's and Honeydukes to be sure they weren't missing out on some newly invented diversion.  Also, Sirius picked up a copy of the _Hogsmeade__ Howler_, the village's twice-weekly newspaper.

"I need to get a job," Sirius explained to Remus, who was taking up the other half of the couch as he attempted to get through the Potions reading for their next class.

"Oh yeah," said Remus, trying not to blink, because he was afraid that if he let his eyes close, they would be far too heavy to reopen.  "Dead set on that motorcycle, aren't you."

"Why're you doing that now?"  Sirius lowered the newspaper.  "It's only Saturday night and we don't have Potions until Tuesday.  I personally find it easier to remember the assignment when I skim it the night before."

"You don't understand," said Remus.  "I have to read it now so when I read it Monday night, I can understand it."

"Oh."  Sirius regarded him over the top of the classifieds.  "Your eyes aren't focusing too well."

"It's kind of tough reading," Remus admitted, "but I'm trying to come off the Wakefulness Potion slowly."

"How much sleep have you been getting?"

"A few hours here and there," said Remus.  "History of Magic is especially restful."

Sirius dropped the paper and took Remus's book out of his hands.  "Forget Potions, you need sleep."

Remus gave a feeble laugh.  "You ought to listen to yourself sometime.  Anyway, I can't, I still have half a flask of potion in my veins."

"Oh, is that all," Sirius said mockingly.  "We could have just bought new books, you know."

"Too much trouble," Remus muttered.  "Besides, you're saving up for the motorcycle."

"I can get money more easily than you can get sleep," Sirius told him.  "Go upstairs and try to rest."

"Not now."

"If you stay here I'm going to pester you with the help wanted ads," Sirius warned him.

"That's okay," Remus said.  "If I'm lucky they'll bore me to sleep."

"Fine."  Sirius unrolled the paper.  "Here's one – the owl office wants someone to help take care of the owls.  No experience necessary."  He crinkled his nose.  "Maybe if I can't find anything better, but I can't see myself cleaning up owl pellets."

"Mm-hm," Remus agreed.

"Gladrags wants a cashier, but that sounds like a full-time job.  Besides, they want someone 'hip and personable.'"

"Sounds like you."

"Don't flatter me.  Says here the Half-Cup wants servers."  Sirius snorted.  "Can you really imagine me serving tea?"

"Actually yes," Remus said.  "You could probably make a fortune on tips."

"I'll think about it."  Sirius continued down the column.  "Some old lady wants her Kneazle walked," he went on.  "You don't walk a Kneazle, it decides if it wants you along.  Sounds a bit risky to me."

Remus yawned.

"Getting sleepy yet?" Sirius inquired.

"God, no.  I feel like running laps around the school or something.  Look, I'm shaking."  Remus held out his hand.

"Had any caffeine lately?"

"Not intentionally."

"I see."  Sirius looked ready to say something else when James arrived and sat down between them.

"How'd it go?" Sirius asked instead.

James looked thunderous.  "Not so great."

"That bad, huh?"

"She found out about one of our little escapades," James admitted.

"Which one?" Remus said.

The black look returned.  "One that I thought no one else knew about."

"Not the tadpoles in the changing room?"

"No, worse."

"Boy, she must be ready to spit fire," Sirius said.  "She going to turn you in?"

"No idea," James said.  "Remus, are you very busy right now?"

"No, but –"

"Will you talk to Lily for me?"

"Oh no you don't," Remus said.  "I refuse to be your pander.  If you're going to fight, do it in person and don't involve me."

"We're not really fighting, she's just sort of disappointed," James said, "which is way worse."

"So what do you expect me to do?  I mean, you did _do_ it, right?"

"Yeah, but –"

"Then what else is there to say?" Remus demanded.

"Tell her I did it for you," James said quietly.

"She didn't –"  Remus had to try again.  "She found out about – that?"

James just nodded.

"Then she doesn't want to see me," Remus said.  "I'm the one who made you do it in the first place."

"You didn't _make_ me do anything," James snapped.  "It was entirely my idea."

Sirius cleared his throat.  "I believe it was mine, actually."

"All four of us are in this together," James retorted.  "We might as well share the blame _and_ the credit."

"Entirely your idea?" Sirius said.

James flushed.  "Whatever.  The point is – oh, to hell with it, I can't remember."

"She had to find out sometime," Remus pointed out.

"Yeah, but I never actually thought she would," James said.

"Give the girl some credit," Sirius said.  "I mean, if you leave stag hairs on your robe or something – is that what happened?"

"More or less."

"You just better hope she loves you more than her Head Girl badge," Sirius said.

James dropped his head into his hands.  "I'm so dead."

"You mean we're so dead," Sirius said, looking faintly panicked.

"Boy am I glad I'm not an Animagus," Remus remarked.

James and Sirius gave him identical poison glares.  "Don't say that word," James hissed.

"I say we adjourn to the dorm," Remus said hastily.  "Peter needs to hear this anyhow."

"No," James said.  "Whoever broke in might've planted some kind of bug in there."

"Don't be paranoid," Sirius said.  "I mean, who cares what we talk about?"

"Someone who wants to get us expelled," James said darkly.  "Like Snape."

"So where do you suggest we go," said Remus, "the roof?"

Five minutes later, they were all lying on the level rooftop above the corridor, looking at the stars.

"Bloody brilliant, Remus," said James.  "We'll never get caught out here."

"I was joking, actually, but that's all right."

"It's also cold," Sirius complained.  "I can feel my eyeballs icing over."

"Close your eyes then, wiseacre," said James.

"What's a wiseacre?" Peter asked.

"James," said Sirius.

"Back to the subject," James said.  "Lily found out about us being – er, unregistered, and unfortunately for us, she has a strong sense of honor."

"Normally that's a good thing," Remus felt obliged to point out.  "Gryffindor, you know?"

"But we're doing a dishonorable thing for an honorable cause," James said.  "What does that make us?"

"Confused," suggested Sirius.

"I take it Lily didn't stick around for your reasons?" Remus said.

"Pretty much all she heard was the breaking the law part," James admitted.

"Write her a note," Peter said.

"And provide written evidence of our crimes?" James said.  "Thank you, but no."

"Have her up for a rooftop chat," Sirius said.  "Then she can't run away."

"Just ask to explain yourself," Remus said.  "If she's as honorable as you say, she'll listen."

"Good idea," James said, brightening.  "I think I'll go over to the Owlery and send her a note right now."  James picked up his broom.

"Could you drop me off at the dorm?" Peter asked.

"Sure."

That left Remus, Sirius and one broomstick.

"If it's too cold, go in," Remus said, "but I want to look at the stars."

"It's okay so long as I keep my eyes closed."

"You can't see the stars that way."

"I know."

For a while there was no sound but their breathing, which made fleeting stormclouds in the air.

"Thank God I didn't have to talk to Lily," said Remus at some point.

"That would have been interesting," Sirius agreed.

Remus sighed, creating a thunderhead.  "Do you think it'll turn out okay?"

Sirius wasn't quite sure what he meant.  "Yeah," he said, "if you wait long enough."

"That's comforting."  He could hear Remus's smile.

"I wish it was," he said.  "Do you think things won't be okay?"

"I don't know," Remus said.  "But I have to believe they will, or else there's no point going on."

"Good," Sirius said.  "I was ready to jump off the roof if you hadn't said that."

Remus smiled though he couldn't see it.  "You wouldn't, though."

"No," Sirius said.  "I'm going to live forever."

* * *

Potions was the first class on Tuesday mornings.  This time, James and Sirius were partners because, James said, "I can only take Peter in small infrequent doses."  They were in Sirius's usual spot, front row center, but Peter had dragged Remus off to the back.

"So they can discuss us more freely," said Sirius.

While they were concocting the potion, Sirius preferred not to talk about anything irrelevant to the task, and James respected his wishes.  However, with their combined talents, they were through with the delicate bits long before everyone else, and the rest of it was watching the potion bubble.

"So how did things go with Lily last night?" Sirius said, adjusting the fire as he squinted at the thermometer.

"Fairly well," James said, bottling the leftover Graphorn horn.  He looked surreptitiously to make sure Lily and Sibyl were still squabbling over their cauldron before he continued.  "Remus was right, she was perfectly willing to hear my explanation."

"I presume she won't be running to Dumbledore about it?"

"I don't think she will," said James.  "She admitted that she wasn't sure we were in the right –"

"Neither are we," Sirius pointed out.

"I told her as much.  But she did say our hearts were in the right place and that it was sweet of us to do that for Remus."

"How generous of her," Sirius said, frowning.

"I know, it's worrying me too," James confessed.  "I mean, how can she actually be as wonderful as she seems?"

"You never know, maybe she is."

"It scares me a little," James said.  "I don't understand what someone like her wants with someone like me."

"I'm sure she's never noticed your brains, talent and self-confidence," Sirius agreed.

"Besides that.  Sirius, I want you to be perfectly honest with me."

"No less."

"Am I a jerk?"

Sirius thought about it.  "You can be sometimes," he said, "but you're an endearing one."

"Well, that's all right with me," said James.  "I guess."

Sirius straightened up.  "I think it's stabilized," he said.  "Should we take it into the back?"

"Sure," James said.  "You take the fire, I'll take the cauldron."

He took out his wand and levitated the cauldron.

"Better not spill any of that," Sirius said.

"Relax, I'm perfect."  James moved off to the back room, keeping the cauldron precisely level.  Sirius scooped the fire into a jar and followed, reflecting that even if James did boast, he always managed to live up to himself.

In the back room, James set the cauldron down with hardly a ripple and Sirius rearranged the fire underneath it.  (This particular potion needed a week to simmer, so it would remain in the back until the following Tuesday's lesson.)  As Sirius fussily rechecked the thermometer, Severus Snape came in, bearing his cauldron in gloved hands.

"Hello, Snape," said James.

"Hello, Potter," he returned, nearly sending Sirius into his own cauldron.  Snape set his potion down and walked back out, presumably to fetch his fire.

"Did you hear that?" Sirius hissed, straightening his goggles.

"All he said was hello," James said.  "Not let's go for a butterbeer, my treat."

"Anything out of Snape's mouth that isn't a hex is cause for suspicion," Sirius said firmly, leading the way out.

"That's rather ungenerous, don't you think?"

Sirius and James stopped by Remus and Peter's table, James to heckle them and Sirius to evaluate their potion.

"Not bad," he concluded.

"Coming from the expert, that's high praise," Remus said.

They returned to their table for the last ten minutes of class, when everyone else was frantically trying to make their potions look like they were supposed to.  Rather, everyone but themselves and Severus Snape, who was coming up to the Professor's desk with a vial half coated in gold.  Sirius and James quickly pretended enormous interest in the desktop and their bookbags.

"Professor, I was wondering if you could tell me how much this gold is worth?"

Professor Paquerette breathed in sharply.  "How did you come by this?"

"I made this potion that coats everything it touches with gold."

"Almost like a Philosopher's Stone," she remarked, turning the vial over in her hands.

"But the Philosopher's Stone only turns metal into gold," Snape said quickly.  "This seems to adhere to any surface."

"This is incredible," the Professor said shakily.  "First, let's just verify that it really is gold."  She took a small bottle from a shelf behind her and, uncorking it, poured its contents onto the vial.  Sirius almost cried with relief when the gold substance turned green and began to smoke.

"Oh dear," the Professor said.  "I'm afraid it's only fool's gold.  Still, it could have some useful applications –"

Snape muttered something unintelligible and left as soon as he decently could.  Professor Paquerette went into the back, where she kept her cleaning supplies, and Sirius and James looked at each other.

"How could he have gotten the recipe?" Sirius said wonderingly.  "It was locked in my cabinet and I'd lost the magic word, you know that."

"Maybe he stole it," James said.  "The magic word, that is."

"No, I think I threw it away, and that was before the break-in anyhow," Sirius said.

"At least his little trick backfired," James said.  "He must not have thought to check it himself."

"But now I can't make my own Galleons," Sirius said.  "I'll have to work at the Half-Cup until the end of my days if I want that motorcycle."

"D'you think he thought that was the potion you were talking about Halloween Eve?" James said.

"I doubt that," Sirius said.  "He would have looked for that a long time ago, before I started to lock the cupboard and before I invented the golding one."

"So the only ones who knew about that potion –"

"Were the four of us," Sirius said.  They both turned around to look at Remus and Peter, neither of whom seemed any more suspicious than usual; they were far too busy with their potion to notice much else.

James gulped.  "You don't think one of them would –"

"Don't say it," Sirius ordered.  "I can't believe it of them.  Snape must have found it on his own."

"Yeah," said James, wanting very much to believe it.  "We still have to tell them, though, see how they react."

When the bell rang, Sirius and James went over to join Remus and Peter.

"Did you see what that cretin Snape did?" Sirius said as they left the dungeon for Defense class.

"We saw him follow you into the back," Remus said.  "Did he make you spill your potion or something?"

"No, he said hello, the ingrate," James said.

"What he _did_ was pass off my golding potion as his to the Professor," Sirius said.

"So he's going to be rich and famous, huh," Peter said.

"Not exactly."  Sirius was blushing.  "Turns out it wasn't real gold after all."

"Caught in his own trap," Peter said.

"I'm sorry it didn't work out," Remus said to Sirius.  "I know you were counting on that potion."

"It's okay," Sirius said.  "Every business in Hogsmeade will be clamoring to hire me anyway."  But he glanced quickly at James, who looked as lost as Sirius felt.  And scared, he finally admitted to himself.  He didn't want to discover that one of his friends had sold him out for fool's gold.

* * *

Friday night the four of them normally would have gone for a butterbeer, which would have turned into several, which would have made them lean heavily on each other as they returned to the castle later that night singing in tuneless four-part harmony.  However, Gryffindor's final Quidditch match, in which they would play Hufflepuff, was scheduled for the next day, so all four of them were gathered around the fireplace, waiting for nine o'clock and bedtime.  James was reading from a Quidditch strategy book nearly the size and weight of a runty first year and scribbling random phrases from it onto his parchment.  Peter and Sirius were playing Exploding Snap, Sirius paying more attention to Remus than the game.  The reason for this was readily apparent – Remus was roasting and eating his way through an entire bag of marshmallows, and James had refused to let any of the team have sweets for the past week.

"What harm would one marshmallow do?" Sirius whined, greedily eyeing Remus's current one.

"If you eat one, you'll eat fifty," James snapped.  "I know what you're like around food.  You don't stop eating as long as it doesn't fight back."

"Don't worry, James," said Remus, licking his fingers clean.  "Every last one of these is mine."

James looked up from his book and frowned.  "May I ask why you plan to eat an entire bag of marshmallows?"

"Because he enjoys tormenting me, the sadist."

"Because I saw them in your trunk and decided I had to eat all of them."

James's frown deepened.  "What were you doing in my trunk?"

"Getting more parchment.  I've run out already."

"You just bought some a _week_ ago," James said.  "Pardon me while I go see what else you've pilfered from my trunk."  He got up and headed for the dormitories.

"What's his problem?" Remus wondered aloud.  "We steal things from each other all the time."

Sirius stared wordlessly at his cards.

"Speaking of which, Peter, were you the one who took my hat?"

Peter squirmed.  "Well –"

Sirius glanced up sharply at him.

"I transfigured it into a flower pot," Peter admitted.

"None of the other six was the size you wanted?" Remus said dryly.

Peter sighed.  "I'm sorry.  But you never wear it anymore, so I thought –"

"That doesn't mean it isn't still close to my heart," Remus said.  "Damn, I burnt that one."  He ate it anyway.

"I love burnt ones," Sirius groaned.

Just then James returned.  "Exactly how many parchments did you steal?" he demanded, reclaiming his place.

"An even dozen," Remus said.

"You writing a book or something?"

"Actually, yes."  Remus speared another marshmallow.  "That reminds me, today's the thirteenth."

"Bra_vo_," James said.

"Also Friday."

"Don't tell me you believe in that crap," Sirius said.

"I don't know about Friday, but there's something about the thirteenth," Remus said.  "December thirteenth was the day I drank that potion and ended up in the hospital wing.  February thirteenth was the day that – well, we made the Inclemency potion –"

Remus glanced up at Sirius, who seemed to remember.

"What was so bad about that?" James said.  "You two got perfect marks on it."

"And I had hall duty all afternoon," Remus said.

"And you pitched a fit at supper," Peter said gleefully.

"And I had to give you a Calming Potion so you wouldn't take my head off," Sirius said.  "It must have been around That Time."

"I think it was," Remus said.

"So the thirteenth skips a month," James said.  "Nothing in November or January, right?  You ought to be safe."

"Besides, what's going to happen?" Peter said.  "The day's practically over."

"I could burn myself on a marshmallow," Remus said.

"If only we were so lucky," Sirius sighed.

Remus made a face.  "You're such an arse."

"Be nice now, boys," James said idly, twiddling his quill.  "Don't make me have to come over there."

Remus was framing a blistering retort when the cards exploded, blowing Sirius's glasses right off his face.

"I'm blind," he howled, patting the floor frantically.

"Right here."  Remus put them in his hand.

"You know, Sirius," said James, "there's a few spells that can fix your eyes right up."

"No, James, you are not performing amateur eye surgery on me," Sirius said.  "I appreciate the offer, though."

"You could always ask Madame Pomfrey to give you magical ones," Peter said.

Remus sniggered.  "Or just accidentally get some Searing Solution into your eyes, then you won't have to ask."

Sirius frowned at Remus, or the marshmallows.

"Yeah, they say those magical eyes can see right through cloth."  James wiggled his eyebrows.

"Thank God I'm not a pervert like you," Sirius said.

James shrugged.  "We all have our roles to fill," he said.  "I'm a pervert.  You're a screwball.  Remus does the work, and Peter makes us an even number."

"You've got a point," Sirius said.

"Damn straight I do," Remus said.

"You going to play or not?" Sirius said to Peter.

Remus reached for another marshmallow, but James snatched the bag away.  "Eat any more of those and you'll never go to sleep."

"You can't tell me what to eat," Remus stormed.  "I'm not on your stupid team."

"Didn't I tell you?  You're the mascot."

"Yeah?  Is that what they do for people they won't let on the real team?"  Remus grinned crookedly.  "I'm a lion, hear me roar."

Sirius looked at James.  "You just got done telling me _I_ was the screwball."

James shrugged. "Sorry about that."

"I'm not crazy, all right?" Remus said.  "I've had one too many marshmallows is all."

"Of all the people to discover you can get drunk on marshmallows," Sirius said.

"I'm not drunk either."  Remus threw his roasting stick into the fireplace.  "I'm going up to bed."

"It's only eight-thirty," Sirius said, but Remus was already gone.

"What's with everyone?" Peter said.  "It's like something's different all of a sudden and no one wants to admit it."

"Really?" James said.  "Well, you've always been a bit slow on the uptake, at least that much hasn't changed."

Peter reddened.  "That wasn't very nice."

James shrugged.  "The truth hurts."

Peter looked as though he might cry; he threw down his handful of cards and left through the portrait hole just before the deck exploded.

Sirius found his glasses and put them back on.  "That _was_ a tad harsh of you, James."

"I know, but…"  James sighed.  "Tell me, do you really truly like Peter?"

"I don't know, but he's our friend."

"He's only our friend because he asked to sit with us at lunch the first week here," James said, "and I couldn't say no because I didn't like the way he snores, see what I mean?"

"Oh, so it's him," Sirius said.  "I've been wondering about that for the longest time, but you can't just ask people that sort of thing."

"We're really his only friends in the world," James went on as though he hadn't heard.  "I don't think he even talks to anyone else.  He owes us everything, why sell us out?"  
  


"Remus owes us just as much," Sirius said.  "We're flirting with Azkaban so he can run around the Forbidden Forest once a month."

"Well, that leaves you and me," James said, "and I know I didn't do it."

"James, I would die before I betrayed us," Sirius said, "and I don't know how to convince you except die or make some Veritaserum."

"No need," James said.  "I trust you."

Hearing those words now made Sirius feel unaccountably weepy.  "Thank you," he said.


	7. Three Musketeers

Chapter 7 – Three Musketeers

"Remus, I need to talk to you," said Lily.

Remus blinked.  He was walking back up to the castle after the Quidditch game in a torrential spring rain, from which his ratty old umbrella, found beneath the stands one fortuitous Saturday, protected him none too well.  Gryffindor had won, but that was a foregone conclusion whenever they played Hufflepuff, and Remus was tired, wet, shivering and afraid that a nasty cold might be in the works.  And the moon was only a day shy of full.  It was hard not to reply waspishly to this girl who had artistic curls about her face from the humidity, who had not a drop of rain on her and no umbrella but an Impervius Charm by the looks of it.  It was in fact exceptionally hard, and Remus was charming and courteous but also human.

"What?" he said.  "You want me to tell you what to get Jamesie for Valentine's Day?  No, that was a month ago.  When's the next holiday for blissful lovers?"

"I wanted to apologize," she said.

"For what?  Falling in love with someone else?"  Remus knew exactly how odious these words must sound but he was unable, perhaps unwilling, to check them.  "That's entirely my doing, since I was fool enough to be honest with you.  Luckily I spared you having to decide between wonderful me and wonderful James, because if you had James would have killed me in a wizard's duel for you.  My death would break your heart, wouldn't it?"

"I don't hate you," Lily said.  "But I don't blame you for thinking so.  I did treat you awfully, and I want to apologize.  I feel horrid about the whole thing."

Remus laughed mirthlessly.  "I'm not making you feel any better, am I?  Talk to me when I'm warm and dry and I'll give you absolution and pretty words, whatever you need to keep your conscience quiet.  Until then I have to beg your pardon because I can't forget all that on such short notice."

"I understand," Lily said in a tiny voice and darted away to leave Remus feeling as though he'd spit out something vile and putrefied.  He had had no right to say such things regardless of the fact that they were perfectly true.  It was unforgivably rude of him, and now Remus felt ill with more than disease.  He wondered, with a crooked smile, if Madame Pomfrey had a potion to fix irreparable faux pas.  That made him think of Sirius, and James, who were probably already back at the common room toasting their victory, and Remus could not abide the thought of smiling and congratulating them and looking them, James particularly, in the eye.

So he didn't.  He fought his way against the crowd and when they were finally, mercifully gone, he went down and walked around the lake, cheerless water fringed with cheerless trees, longer than he cared to think.  When he was tired he sat down underneath a bare gray tree, his legs sticking out in front of him and his head, flung back, resting on the trunk.  Someone spotted him out the front windows and the news was all over the castle within the hour, but he was spared that knowledge at least.

When the cold became unbearable, Remus went back up to the common room, only to find it deserted; he had been out so long that it was already suppertime.  There was a large paper bag with the top folded over twice and his name written on it.  Inside was a blanket, nothing else_._

Remus curled up on the rug in front of the fireplace and pulled on a glamour over top of the blanket to make himself less remarkable, just enough not to be stepped on.  He was cold and hungry but that did not keep him awake very long.

Remus woke up in his own bed.  Lily was sitting on the floor cross-legged watching him.

"I didn't drool too much, did I?" he said.

"Not too much.  I got James to levitate you up here, then I convinced them to go for a few butterbeers.  I told them you wouldn't mind."

"You were right," Remus said.  He sat up, drawing his blanket around his shoulders.  He wanted to put it over his head too.  "I think I owe you an apology for being such a tremendous cad."

"You were perfectly justified in saying what you did," Lily said quietly.  "I deserved it."

"That doesn't mean I was justified in saying it that way," Remus said.  "The truth doesn't have to hurt."

"You could have dressed it up a bit, but the truth would still be the same," Lily said.  "I'm glad you were honest with me."

"I'm not."

"I won't ask you to forgive me," she said.  "I just don't want you to hate me."

"I'll try not to."

"Okay."

"Aren't you technically not supposed to be in here?" Remus realized belatedly.

"You'd be surprised what the Head Girl can get away with."

"Probably not," Remus said.  "I have some idea what the Head Boy can get away with."

Lily flashed her gorgeous grin.  "I'd better go anyway.  I told them I'd be down once I was sure you'd make it through the night."

"Gee, thanks.  No wonder everyone thinks I'm so sickly."

"Your attendance record is pretty convincing too," she said.  "By the way, Sirius generously offered you the edible contents of his trunk since you missed supper."

"Really.  How many Confundus did it take?"

"Actually I'm better at charming people into that sort of thing."

"Yeah, we all know what grades you get in that class," Remus said.  "Sheer beauty alone will get you onto the dean's list."

"Remus…"  She fixed him with those enthralling eyes.  "I'm sorry I didn't –"

"It's all right," Remus said.  "Quite often I don't like me either."

Still she looked at him.  "I don't know whether you make me want to laugh or cry," she said, and perhaps embarrassed by her own artlessness, she left him there.

Remus decided, upon reflection, that he didn't want to think about any of this too much longer, so he ate some Cauldron Cakes and went back to sleep.

* * *

For the Gryffindor team, Quidditch season was officially over and Sirius was inconsolable.  He didn't sleep, didn't putter among his potions, never smiled.  Most worrying of all, he hardly ate, the boy who was rumored to be little more than stomach and brain, and in fact neither of them seemed to be working; he tried to open doors that even first years knew were false, he left his books in the bathroom and his quills in his shoes.  It felt as though someone had died.  Remus actually dreamed one night that Sirius was gone, that he stood by the coffin knowing who it held and yet instinctually frightened to look at his face.

Remus woke up and Sirius was not in bed.

This did not alarm Remus at all; he felt as though he was walking into a long ago but still remembered dream.  Sirius was in the common room, as he'd suspected, and reading a book with a shabby water-stained cover.  He looked up at Remus, squinting – his glasses were nowhere in sight.

"I came down here so I _wouldn't_ wake you up," he said, sounding faintly grouchy.

"What's that?"  Remus came up behind him for a look, but Sirius snapped it shut.  "More dirt?"

"The dirtiest book I've ever read is the dictionary, as you very well know," Sirius snapped.

"You're just looking at the pictures, then?" Remus said.  "Come on, it can't be that bad."

"You'd laugh if I told you," Sirius said glumly.

"I think you've got me mixed up with James.  Your eyesight hasn't gotten that bad, has it?"

"Just about," Sirius said.  "Without my glasses I can't tell a Blossom from a Firestarter."  That was saying something; Sirius could identify any broom on the field from the stands, make, model and year.

"Oh go on, laugh if you want," he added sulkily, handing up the book.  It was called _When__ They Passed out Beauty, You Got Brains Instead: The Nerd's Compendium of Appearance-Altering Charms, Spells and Potions._

Remus couldn't speak for a minute.  "You're going to fix your eyes?" he said finally.

"And my teeth.  Actually, I was hoping you'd do it for me."

"Sirius, do you remember when I tried to transfigure myself into a wombat?"

"Vividly," he said.

"I don't think that's quite the look you're after," Remus said tactfully.

"I'll teach you how to do it.  I'll find someone expendable for you to practice on, like Snape."

"Get James to do it," Remus suggested.  "He's good at Transfiguration and better at preening."

"I already said I don't want him doing it."

"I thought you were joking."

"Of course I wasn't," Sirius said.  "I know he's capable of doing it right, but he'd think it was funny to give me a third nostril or something.  You wouldn't."

"I'd probably end up giving you a third nostril too.  The only difference is I'd feel bad about it," Remus said.  "Either way, you go to the hospital wing and everyone talks about it for a month."

Sirius put his face in his hands.  "I might as well kill myself.  My Quidditch career is over forever after a grand total of two games, and now my best friend refuses to help me fix my abysmal self-esteem."

"You're best friends with James, you shameless flatterer," Remus said.  "And I'm sorry, but don't even talk to me about hating yourself.  You've never had an irresistible desire to maul your classmates every month."

"Haven't I?" Sirius said darkly.  "Severus Snape for one makes me wish I had claws and pointy teeth."

"It's _not_ funny," Remus snapped.

"Everything's funny if you think about it the right way," Sirius said.  "In fact I believe everything ought to be funny.  It would improve this world a great deal."

"Laughing at your problems won't get them solved," Remus snapped.  "You can sit there and fill up a book with witty insults and it doesn't make you stop hurting.  It just – kind of lets you ignore it for a while," he muttered, turning away from the dying fire.

Sirius scrambled up so he was facing Remus, put out his hand to pull Remus back.

"What?" Remus said thickly.

"I'm sorry – I didn't mean to –"

"It's okay," Remus said in the same voice.

"No it isn't, and don't you deny it," Sirius snapped.  "That doesn't help either."

"Fine," Remus agreed bad-temperedly.  "It's not okay and never will be.  Is that what you want to hear?"

"No, I want to stop laughing and fix it," Sirius said.  "You don't have to stand over there like a leper, you know."

Reluctantly Remus clambered over the back of the couch and sat down sideways.  He fixed his eyes on Sirius, which were so blank that Sirius had opened his mouth to ask if he was really that ugly when Remus said, "Okay, I'll do it."

"Why?"

Remus sighed.  "Because when you ask for something, I can never turn you down."

The answer frightened Sirius somehow, so he said, "I don't want you to do it just because you're too polite to tell me no."

"That isn't it, exactly," Remus said.  "There's just something about you, Sirius, and even if no one else sees it, I do."

"I don't get it," Sirius said.  "You're the one who has exclusive rights to wonderful."

"It's not that either," Remus said.  "I'm not even going to try to explain it because some things don't need to be.  Anyway, I'm not wonderful."

Sirius smirked.  "If you weren't, you wouldn't be doing this."

"You mean if you weren't so irresistible, I wouldn't be doing this," Remus said.

"No, you're going to make me irresistible," Sirius said happily.  "Remus, don't you feel like right now, you're exceptionally well qualified to run the world?"

"Yeah," Remus said, smiling at him.  "Yeah, just about."

"Could you give me a smile like yours?" Sirius asked suddenly.

"Anything," he said.  "Anything you want."

* * *

The quartet's final class on Thursdays was Defense against the Dark Arts.  For the seven years they had been there, and for many before that, it had been taught by Professor McGowan, an utterly unremarkable wizard.  He was everything that the various occupants of the post during Harry Potter's era were not, principally time-honored.  Also, McGowan was neither a Dark being of any description, nor a conceited fop, nor (so far as anyone knew) a supporter of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.  In fact he was head of Ravenclaw House and Deputy Headmaster, the first non-Transfiguration professor to hold the post in several decades.  (No one knew why the Transfiguration professor was typically Deputy Headmaster or Headmistress and head of Gryffindor House as well; it was just one of those inexplicable little things.)  Altogether Professor McGowan was the type that everyone knew, but nobody would be able to remember, five or ten years down the road.

Naturally Remus disliked the class, but not because of the professor and not because he did badly either – it was his second-best class after Ancient Runes.  He simply felt that he had no business learning how to defend himself against his own kind.  The worst of it had been when they learned about werewolves a few years back, and even that hadn't been so bad.  He was careful to remain expressionless throughout, and he'd been able to ace the test without putting forth a scrap of effort, which had made him feel briefly like James or Sirius or some other intellectual luminary.

But today it seemed he could do nothing right.  His only quill had been broken when he dropped it on the floor and Peter, going up to hand in his essay, had stepped on it.  Luckily he felt responsible enough for it to lend Remus one of his.  Then Remus discovered that his own essay was missing.  For one panicked minute he thought he'd left it in the dormitory, but Sirius's stifled giggles soon alerted him to its real whereabouts.  Unfortunately he didn't check it before handing it in and so did not notice Sirius's recent revisions, but that was a panic attack for another day.  To top it off, Remus's wand began to malfunction, conjuring a songbird above Sirius's desk where he had intended a flock of mosquitoes.  James even had the nerve to suggest that Remus had mispronounced the incantation, which might possibly have been the case, but Remus was far too irritated to admit it.  The bell could not ring soon enough to suit him.

When it did, he snatched his books, muttered to Sirius, "Gotta go to the library," and darted out of the room.

James watched him go amusedly.  "Someone's PMS is wicked this month," he said, using their shorthand for premoon syndrome.

"It's only the new moon on Sunday," Sirius pointed out as they left the classroom.  "Two weeks until the big guy shows up."

"Ah well," James said, waving to a couple of the Ravenclaw Chasers as they passed.  "He puts up with enough shit, he's entitled."

"Yeah, I feel kind of bad about his essay," Sirius said, "but it shouldn't affect his grade, should it?"

"Either way, it was bloody funny," James said.  "What's the password again?"

"Oh, the one you made up?" Sirius said.

"It's a good one, too," the Fat Lady cooed, batting her lashes at James.

"Sleeping dragon, that's it."

The portrait swung open to admit them and they entered, Sirius saying, "Boy, I don't know how you came up with that one."

"Stuff it, would you?" James said.  "I start to run out of ideas after five or six."

"Lily doesn't have any suggestions?" Sirius said, heading for the fireplace.

"Yeah, but hers are all obvious ones like 'Potter rules,' " James complained, flopping into his armchair.

"Oh, that's right, it has to be less than four words," Sirius agreed as he rummaged through his backpack.  " 'Potter is dead sexy' would be a wee bit too long."

"What's that you're doing?" Peter asked, leaning over to look at the parchment Sirius had begun filling in.

"My job application."

"Where're you working?" James said.

"The Half-Cup."

"Never been there."

"It's a tea place," Sirius explained.

"But you hate tea."

"Well, I don't have to drink it, do I?" he snapped.  "Be quiet, you're making me mess up."  He pulled out his wand and directed it at the parchment.

James sighed and snuggled deeper into his chair.  "That homework you're doing there, Peter?"

"Herbology essay."

"What is it with you and plants?" James demanded.

"They don't look at you funny."

"Oh, like we do."

"Aw, damn," Sirius said.  "I need permission from my Head of House and the headmaster.  I'll be right back."

"Arright," James yawned as Sirius got up.  "But make it snappy.  I need you to write my Potions essay."

"If I find my Transfiguration homework finished when I get back, I'll consider it," Sirius retorted, walking off.

"Arrogant, demanding bastard," James said, resting his head on the arm of the chair.  "Say, where's Remus?"  
  


"No idea," Peter said absently, still scribbling.

"I don't like this."  James frowned.  "Snape might've waylaid him and taken him to his evil lair."

"Oh, Snape wouldn't do that," Peter said.

"Sure he wouldn't," said James.  "I'm going to go up and check."

"Okay," Peter said.

James took the stairs two at a time and, arriving at the door, announced, "James Potter."  The wards fell away and he entered, hastily scanning the Marauder's Map.  The first thing he spotted was a tiny figure labeled _Severus__ Snape_, which was swiftly approaching the gargoyle that concealed the entrance to Dumbledore's office.  Also, he was wearing an Invisibility Cloak.

"Shit."  James yanked the map off the wall and sprinted down the stairs and out the common room, yelling as he passed Peter, "Be right back."

James raced down the corridors, holding the map before him so he could keep an eye on Snape, but it was hopeless.  He stuffed the map into his pocket and ran faster, slowing only when he came up to the gargoyle and Snape was nowhere to be seen.  

Worse, an arm had been broken off the statue, probably by Snape in a fit of rage, but James knew that all the same, standing there by it made him the culprit.  He was just about to turn tail and run when he spotted Argus Filch pelting down the hall toward him, and he knew he was in for it.  Cursing softly, James pulled out the map, blanked it, and stuffed it back in his pocket just as Filch arrived, panting.

"So it was you," Filch wheezed, pointing at the defaced statue with a triumphant air.

"It was like that when I got here," James protested.

"Hah!" said Filch skeptically.  "And what business have you here?"

"I'm Head Boy," James said imperiously, flashing his badge.  "I need to see Dumbledore."

"You'll see him once I – what's that in your pocket?"

"Nothing," said James.

"Nothing!  And that's what you were doing to it when I showed up?" Filch snarled.  "Follow me, laddie."  He muttered something to the gargoyle, which was now cradling its broken arm.  It sprang aside anyway, and James apprehensively trailed Filch up to Dumbledore's office.

Dumbledore was sitting at his desk.  Snape was sitting in an armchair facing him.  The Invisibility Cloak was folded on the desk.

"What is it, Argus?" Dumbledore said pleasantly.

"Give it to him," Filch snarled at James, who handed the mercifully blank parchment to Dumbledore.

The headmaster unfolded it with great care and tried several spells on it.  James closed his eyes briefly as their four messages appeared in turn, all of them written in Remus's green ink.

"How amusing," Dumbledore said, that twinkle in his eyes (patent pending).  "None of my parchment is nearly this creative."

Snape was glancing between the parchment and James, some sort of connection forming behind the glacial eyes.

"Get rid of it!" Filch spat, plainly not addressing Dumbledore.  When James had complied, Filch snatched it off the desk.  "If you don't mind, Headmaster."

"Really, Argus, I see no need to –"

"This is evidence of his guilt!" Filch protested.  "I need it to file his report."

"James has done nothing wrong so far as I know," Dumbledore said evenly.  "Mr. Snape has admitted to defacing the statue."

Filch brandished the parchment.  "That still leaves Potter in possession of a dangerous and possibly illegal magical object."

"Very well," said Dumbledore resignedly.  "Do as you like with it."

Giving James a triumphant glance, Filch marched out of the office, leaving James alone with Dumbledore and Snape.

"Mr. Potter, have you ever seen this cloak?" asked Dumbledore, indicating it with a long finger.

"It looks a hell of a lot like mine," James said angrily.

"Pardon me, I must have heard you wrong."  Dumbledore pantomimed cleaning out his ears.

"You certainly did," James said.  "I said that cloak looks astonishingly like my own which has been missing for almost a month."

"Is there any way to identify your cloak?"

"Why yes, there is," said James.  He unfolded the cloak and touched his wand to the material inside the neckline, where the words "H. Potter" glowed for a minute before melting back into the fabric.

"Have you changed your name recently?" Dumbledore inquired.  "Perhaps I ought to update the school records."

"This cloak belonged to my father," James said.  "His name was Halliferd."

"I see," Dumbledore said.  "Well, the use of an Invisibility Cloak is not against school rules, but that is only because it has been four hundred fifty-one years since a student has brought one to Hogwarts."

"They are rather hard to come by," James agreed.

"However, I'm sure you understand that given the current state of the wizarding world –"

"You mean the rise of Voldemort, sir?" said Snape.

Dumbledore gave him a quelling look.  "The standard way of referring to Voldemort is 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named' or 'You-Know-Who,' which fits much more nicely into the _Daily Prophet_ headlines."

"Of course, sir," Snape said.

"As I was saying, in the current climate it is rather dangerous for a student to keep such an item," said Dumbledore, "therefore I will keep it.  In a very secure place which no seventh year can possibly break into."

"But Professor –"

"I'm sorry, James," said Dumbledore, and looked it.  "I will return the cloak when it is once more safe with you.  Mr. Potter, you may go."

James left the office seething.  In half an hour's time, he had had his two most valuable aids to mischief-making confiscated.  Now the only thing of any value he owned was his broomstick, a souped-up Flycatcher, which thank the Lord was safe in the broomshed.

James stopped by to make sure it was there before returning to Gryffindor Tower.  Admittedly he was in no hurry to admit he'd lost their collective masterpiece, but the look on his friends' faces when he joined them in the dormitory told him they'd already heard the bad news.

"I went to see Dumbledore just after you did," Sirius said, looking thunderous.  "And what did I see but your cloak on his desk and Snape sitting there."

"This is a dark day for Gryffindor's Three Musketeers," said Remus.

"What about me?" Peter said.

"Haven't you ever read the book?  There were four of them."

"Oh," said Peter.  "Hey, where's the map?"

"I have bad news," James announced.

"Oh God, tell me Dumbledore doesn't have it," Sirius groaned.

"You're in luck," James said sourly.  "Filch has it."

This news was entirely too much for Sirius.  "Oh God," he wailed.  "Our career is over.  I'm a washout and I haven't even been eighteen for two months."

"Some of us are still seventeen," Remus pointed out dryly.  "Think how we feel."

"James, how could you?" Sirius whined.

"Listen, I was trying to catch Snape with the cloak," James snapped.  "It was just bad luck my running into Filch."

"You didn't _see_ him?" Sirius said.

"I can't run and watch the map at the same time, and I'm willing to bet you can't either."

"Fine," Sirius said.  "It was just bad luck.  Now I can be mad at the whole world instead of just you."

"Great," said James.

"Can we steal them back?" Peter said.

"We wouldn't have a chance without the map and cloak," James said morosely.  "In fact, if Dumbledore wasn't exaggerating, we wouldn't have a chance _with_ them."

The four of them sank into a profound and gloomy silence.  Things had never looked worse, and as you might have deduced by now, Dumbledore and Filch are not about to have sudden, convenient changes of heart so that the Marauding Four can continue to amuse themselves and us with successful, magically facilitated escapades.  Sorry.

* * *

The next day was horrible.  Sirius couldn't crack a smile in Potions and Professor Paquerette thought he was fatally ill.  Remus spent all of Ancient Runes staring at the floor and didn't even say hello to Rohanna Lynch, who spent the rest of class worrying about what she might have done to offend him.  None of them said a word to each other during lunch.  Afterwards James left with Lily and her friends, and Peter left muttering something about taking a nap.  Remus was about to leave too when Sirius clutched his sleeve and said, "Wait."

Remus looked at Sirius.  He felt like running and hiding underneath his bed.  "What?" he said.

"Will you go to Hogsmeade with me?"

"Okay," said Remus.

"Do you want to go?"  Sirius considered him for a minute, trying to see something other than gray fog behind his eyes.  "Or are you just going because I asked you to?"

"I'd rather go," Remus said.  "I don't want to sit in the common room and be like every day."

"Okay."

They left Great Hall and went out through the tunnel behind the mirror, together but saying nothing.  The gates of Hogsmeade where they came out read: _Hogsmeade__ Established 1583 Enter Friends and Be Welcome._

"Think they'll let us in?" Sirius said.

"I hope so," Remus said.

They walked up the main street and stopped at the Half-Cup, a tiny clapboard building painted three shades of green.

"I just have to take in my application," Sirius said.  "I won't be a minute."

Remus waited five, leaning against the rough planks and watching the pedestrians.  They seemed equally interested in him, probably because of the prefect's badge and Hogwarts crest on his robes.  Remus didn't have his cloak, and by the time Sirius reappeared he was shivering.

"Let's go to the Broomsticks," Sirius said.

"I haven't got any money."

"I'll pay for you."

"But you're saving for the motorcycle."

"Pay me back then."

"All right."  Remus didn't want to argue, and for once in his life he wanted to drink butterbeer enough to float his eyeballs.

They took seats at the bar and Madame Rosmerta served them.  "No James today?"

"He's with Lily," muttered Sirius.

"Bad day?"

"That was yesterday."

Rosmerta raised her eyebrows.  "It must've been a doozy."

She moved off and Remus sighed into his tankard.  "I don't think this is big enough to drown in."

"That's why you have to have five or six."  Sirius took a long draught of his own.

"You have enough money?"

"It goes on my tab."  Sirius gestured impatiently.  "Drink up."

"Only you."  Remus complied.

"Why don't you ever have butterbeer?" asked Sirius.

Remus gazed fixedly into his glass.  "It isn't real," he said finally.  "I mean it might make you feel better, but it just isn't real because somewhere underneath it nothing's changed."  He took another draught.  "But I can't care now.  This is the end, you know."

"Not necessarily," said Sirius.  "I mean, the four of us are still here."

"But not the same," Remus said.  "And not for long.  Isn't it ironic" – he took another drink – "how all this time we've been thinking we're so great.  Like we had something that no one else did."

"But we _do_," Sirius said.

"And all it was was a bit of cloth and a bit of parchment.  Nothing more."  Remus started on his second glass.

"We've been friends just about forever, that counts for something."  Sirius twirled his own glass, still half full.

"It's not how it's been, though," Remus said.  "I don't leave my story out anymore, I keep it locked up.  Though I can't tell you where in case you're the one who broke in.  I can't leave without a reason and I can't come back without an alibi."  He thought about it for a while and asked at last, "Do you think it was me?"

"It was Snape," Sirius said emphatically.  "He was wearing the cloak."

"But how?" Remus pursued.  "How did he get in the common room?  How did he know when we'd all left?  How did he know what to burn and what to leave?  I tell you, he found out from one of us."

"Do you think it was me?" Sirius said tightly.

"I don't know," Remus said.  "I look at you and you look like Sirius, pretty much how you always have, and I can't see a change that big.  You'd think if you did something like that, you couldn't look at me like you have forever, but you do.  And so does everyone else."  Remus rested his forehead on his hand, looking worn out.  "Does it ever drive _you_ crazy?"

"Sometimes," he said.  "I wonder if Snape found my golding potion himself, or if someone told him.  I wonder if I threw away the magic word or someone stole it.  I don't know what to think, so I don't."

"I don't want to," Remus said.  "But when I can't sleep, there's nothing to do and I wonder."

"That's why I don't try to sleep," Sirius said.  "It's better to be doing something and chase away the dark."

"Yeah," Remus said.  "Some times it's harder to chase away than others."

Sirius looked sideways at Remus, who looked exactly the same, and wondered what he had meant by that.  Then he shook his head to clear it of the thought.  Butterbeer could do that to you, he reasoned, taking another drink.

Remus looked sideways at Sirius and wondered what thought was making him frown into his glass.  Then, dismissing the thought, he took another drink.


	8. Hogwarts, A Melodrama

Chapter 8 – Hogwarts, a Melodrama

The last day of March was Sirius's first day at work.  He returned to the common room at eight-thirty, yawning enormously, and draped himself over an armchair.

"How'd it go?" asked James.  He was sitting with Lily on the couch, and Peter was lying on his stomach reading a book whose words kept jumping around on the page.  He had his wand out, trying to get them to stay put, but so far with little success.

Sirius sighed effusively.  "You are not going to believe this," he said.  "Actually, you'll probably wet yourself laughing."

"Excellent," James said.  "I haven't had a proper laugh in a week.  Don't keep us in suspense."

Sirius sighed again.  "We have to wear aprons."

James reacted quite calmly.  "Sorry, I didn't catch the last word.  You have to wear what?"

"Aprons."  Sirius had to explain.  "You know, white bits of cloth you tie around your waist, like with lace and stuff."

James began snickering madly; Lily herself was trying, not altogether successfully, to lose her giggles in her sleeve.  "I don't suppose yours has lace?" he choked out after a prolonged silent spasm of mirth.

"Actually it does.  Well, it was that or sunflower appliqués," he snapped.  "Would you stop that?  You look like you're going to asphyxiate."

"It's okay," Lily said.  "I know how to do artificial respiration."

"Lovely _and_ talented," Sirius said.  "James, please.  You really are frightening me."

James drew in a huge, shuddering breath.  "I hope they're paying you enough to replace your self-respect," he said at last, still laughing.

Sirius looked wounded.  "Are you suggesting that my opinion of myself is entirely dependent on my appearance?  I'll have you know my self-image is _much_ more secure than that.  Oh, by the way, where's Remus?  I have to talk to him about something."

"Upstairs, I think," said James.  "Although I don't think he'll enjoy your story quite as much as I did."

Sirius pelted up the stairs and threw himself against their door.  To his surprise, it yielded, and Sirius stumbled gracelessly into the room.  Remus whipped around at the sudden noise.

"Why didn't you put the wards on?" Sirius accused, steadying himself against the wall.

"I did."  Remus replaced his wand and crossed the room to pull the door shut.  He turned to face Sirius, who remarked the ink stains on his fingers.  Green, of course.  "How was work?"

"It was okay.  We had to wear aprons."

As James had predicted, Remus did not seem to find it at all amusing.  Instead he regarded Sirius for a long minute, then he said conversationally, "Something else on your mind?"

"Actually, yes."  Sirius seized the opening.  "I was thinking –"

"Before or after class?" Remus said, his tone still perfectly friendly.

Sirius frowned.  "Don't try to be funny.  I have exclusive rights on that.  Anyway, as I said, I was thinking, and it really isn't fair of me to ask you to do my – er, well, you know."

"Plastic surgery?"  
  


"Something like that," Sirius said, looking still more irritated.  "I mean, you have quite enough to be getting on with, and the incantations are probably damn near impossible –"

"I understand," Remus said.  "I wouldn't want me holding the wand either, being what I am," and some of his self-loathing escaped in the last words.  "Are you going to try it yourself or have someone else do it?"

"Well, I was going to ask James," Sirius said, shocked into complete honesty, "but –"

Sirius didn't hear him speak an incantation, but the book was suddenly in Remus's hand and he held it out to Sirius.  "Here you go."

He took it, still dumbfounded.  "May I ask you a question?"

"Certainly."

"What would it take to make you mad?" Sirius asked, and his tone was the equal of Remus's in courteous neutrality.  "I mean really mad, like chucking your wand into a corner and coming after me with your fists."

Remus appeared to consider the question.  Finally he said, "Well, you would either have to blab my secrets to the entire school, or else insult my family.  Which is kind of the same thing."

"That all?" Sirius said.  "I could write an essay about what makes me mad."

"Oh, I'm sure there are things I haven't thought of," Remus said equably.  "Those are just the basics."

"So your best friend insulting your magical ability, no matter how delicately, doesn't make the list?"

"Not in this case," said Remus.  "As I keep telling you, James is your best friend, and I won't even pretend I can compete with him magically.  Also this saves me a lot of work and the responsibility of trying to improve on nature.  So I think altogether I've got the better deal."

"Wait, did you just say I was good-looking?"

"Not at all."  Then Remus thought about it again.  "Oh, I didn't mean you were ugly – I just – I don't _think_ about what you look like."

"Thank God for that," Sirius sighed.  "All the girls who are about to realize how gorgeous I am don't need another rival."

Remus snorted.  "I doubt that would faze them."

"Oh, I don't know," Sirius said.  "They might find all that perfection a bit tough to compete with."

"I am _not_ perfect," Remus snapped.

"Oh really?  In that case you're giving perfection quite a bad name."

"What makes you think I am?" Remus said belligerently.

"Even if I told you, you're too modest to believe me," Sirius said.  "Also, you never lose your temper."

"Keep talking and I will."

"Fine, you're an ugly brainless toad," Sirius snapped.  "That what you want to hear?"

Remus relaxed.  "Yes, thank you."

"Oh wait, I've just found your tragic flaw," Sirius said mockingly.  "Your abysmal self-esteem."  He slammed out of the room, yelling, "Put the wards on better if you don't want me messing up your life."

Remus went back to the desk to finish reading the Potions assignment.  It took him a full fifteen minutes to find his place.

* * *

Remus woke up the next morning to the sound of Sirius singing.  His work of choice was "Row, Row, Row Your Boat," repeated at intervals of about thirty seconds.

"Would you stop that godawful noise?" Remus grouched, pulling open his Hufflepuff curtains.  Sirius was standing there looking sheepish, an effect heightened by his woolly slippers with animated sheep heads.

"Where in heaven's name did you get those?" Remus asked.  "Never mind that, why're you wearing them?"

"The floor's cold," he said sulkily.  "Hey, stop that."  The left sheep was snapping at the hem of Remus's curtains.

"Oh for goodness' sake," Remus yawned, scuffing his feet into his own slippers.  "What time is it?  It still looks dark out there."

"Six fifty-two," Sirius said.

Before Remus could reply, the door burst open and James sailed in.  He had plainly been to the prefects' bathroom already; his black hair was wet and a pronounced odor of cinnamon attended him.  "Morning, all," he said cheerfully.

Remus frowned at James.  "What's there to be so happy about, and why are you up this early?"

"The bubble bath just got refilled," James said, presumably in answer to the first question.  "You ought to go check it out."

"Why?" said Remus suspiciously.

James and Sirius traded looks.  "Why not?" James said.

"Because you never tell me to do anything for my own good," Remus said.  "Usually it's so you can have a good laugh."

James sighed.  "You know me entirely too well."  He glanced at Peter's Slytherin drapes, which were still closed.  He lowered his voice.  "Actually, we're planning a trick on Peter, and it would really help if you could disappear for –" he checked his watch – "half an hour or so?  More if you can."

"No problem," Remus said.  "Anything I can do to help?"

"I don't think so.  We've got it all taken care of," James said, grinning hugely.  "It ought to be quite a show."

Remus grabbed his bathrobe and fresh clothes and promptly left, entertaining himself during the walk with fantasies of what the trick on Peter might be.  Happily there was no one in the bathroom this early, and even the mermaid's picture was empty, so Remus had the place entirely to himself.

In the grand tradition of Ms. Rowling, there will be no questionable scenes in the prefects' bathroom (although the PG-13 rating does allow for a little more leeway – please refer to the guidelines of the Global Association of HP Fanfic Ratings for further information).  So forty-five minutes later, Remus emerged smelling of cherry blossom, his bright hair still dripping but in all other respects entirely presentable.

There was no one in the dormitory when he returned.

Remus wasn't overly alarmed.  It was quarter to eight and the others had probably already gone down to breakfast.  He picked up his bookbag and went downstairs, his daydreams of Peter's imminent downfall now interspersed with visions of cream puffs and marshmallow chickens for breakfast.  However, even these enticing visions did not long distract Remus from the fact that the corridors were unusually empty.  At this time the halls ought to be filling up with groups of yawning, tousle-haired students clutching their bags and dreaming, as he was, of breakfast.  In point of fact he had not yet seen a single other student.  The halls of Hogwarts were empty as the day they were made.  Remus had the sudden claustrophobic sense of awaking in a nightmare.

He ran the rest of the way.

Every one of the other two hundred eighty-seven students was already in his or her seat.  Every one of them was staring at Remus.  By contrast, there were only three or four teachers there yet, and they were all whispering to one another.  There was one seat left at the Gryffindor table, and it was next to Sirius Black.

Remus knew this had not been engineered for his benefit.  He wanted to turn and run, barricade himself in the tower and dare them to come take what they wanted.  Instead he kept walking.  _Let them have it,_ he thought at some level below thought.  _Whatever it is._

He stopped next to the empty chair and Sirius leapt up.

"Remus!" he said and his voice was loud in the preternatural stillness.  Remus felt the first droplet of anger – was that a Sonorus Charm he was using?  "I have a confession to make."

"Yeah?" Remus said and by the way his voice echoed he knew he was under the same spell.  He glanced at James and Peter, sitting across the table, thinking it was probably James.  Peter was grinning so hard his eyes had practically disappeared.  Remus loathed him with a sudden and passionate intensity.  He turned back to Sirius, folded his arms.  "Okay," he said.  "I'm listening."

Sirius looked down and shuffled his feet.  He might have been standing on the high dive about to jump off.  Remus wondered suddenly if this were genuine.

"You're so bloody wonderful," Sirius said.  "Always have been.  I remember the very first thing you said to me at the Welcoming Feast.  You said, 'Sirius Black?  You don't look it.'  And I said, 'My parents picked my name out of a hat when I was three years old and my grandpa Arland, who I was named after, died and left every last Knut to St. Mungo's.'  And you said, 'I got to choose my own name.'  And I never told you…"  Sirius looked up at him and Remus wanted to believe whatever was coming.  "I never told you but I thought you were absolutely the coolest kid I'd ever in my life met.  I had no idea that I might someday fall in love with you."

The entire hall inhaled sharply as one.

"And you haven't," Remus said sharply.  "Have you?"

Sirius just looked at him, so long that Remus felt himself tilting backwards over an abyss, then he smiled and said, "Happy April Fool's."

"You're a bloody wonderful actor," Remus snapped, shaking with rage.  "Something useful to know about your friend."  He whirled around to leave.

"It was supposed to be funny," Sirius said after him.

"I have a twisted sense of humor," Remus yelled over his shoulder.  "I don't get a laugh out of playing with other people's emotions.  Or lives, for that matter."  The doors leading out of Great Hall were twice as tall as a person and three times as heavy, but Remus slammed them with all the force of his fury and the enchanted ceiling trembled.

Sirius flinched, from the doors or the comment.

"What he said…" James began.  "He didn't –"

"I wouldn't know," Sirius said.  He sat down in his chair because he had just realized he was the only person standing in the entire hall.  For the first time Sirius could remember, he didn't want to eat anything.  He was replete with guilt and he could not cram another morsel in.

"Bit of a poor sport, I'd say.  Pumpkin juice?" Peter offered.

Sirius shook his head numbly.

"That probably wasn't the greatest idea we've ever had," James said.

Sirius wanted to laugh at the inadequacy of that but he had never felt less like laughing.  He ate some toast because James put it on his plate, and after breakfast he was not in the least surprised when Dumbledore asked him to come to the headmaster's office.

With his usual incisiveness Dumbledore remarked, "Clearly you're much more miserable than any punishment of my invention would make you."

Sirius agreed with him.

Remus didn't show up for History of Magic, Charms, or lunch.  None of them knew whether he'd gone to Runes or not, but they agreed, while they were discussing him at supper, that it was fairly unlikely.

"I would go look for him," Sirius said, "but it seems I've forfeited that right."  And without the Marauder's Map, neither of the others would have a chance, and they knew it.

Back up to the tower they trudged after supper.  Lily was on the couch waiting for James.  She shone at the sight of him.

"Lily," he said, "I need to tell you something."  All of James's usual swagger and bragger was nowhere to be seen.  "I cheated on you."

Lily laughed.  "Nice try, big guy.  I know what today is."

Up in the dormitory that night, James said, "She didn't believe me," and his voice was full of wonderment.  "What a crap day to tell the truth."

Sirius said, "She wouldn't have believed you if you'd said it last week, you big galoot."

"So what am I supposed to do?" James wailed.

"Think of it as your second chance," Sirius advised.  "You told her, she forgave you."

"Yeah," James said, brightening.  "Besides, it's not like it's ever going to happen again."

"Er," Sirius said, his curiosity raging.  "Who –"

"You aren't going to believe this," James said, "but I don't know.  She was dead sexy, though."

"That pretty much lets out the population of Hogwarts, then," Sirius said.  "Er, what –"

"Nothing much," James said.  "By which I mean no clothing hit the ground."

"I see," Sirius said.

"Of course I don't remember the incident all that well, so who knows."

"Ah," Sirius said.  "Why –"

"A bit too much to drink," James said.  "You know how it is."

"Of course," Sirius said.

Just before Sirius fell asleep, he realized that Remus still had not come in.

* * *

During Ancient Runes, Rohanna Lynch had asked if she could go look for Remus.  "I think I know where he is," she'd said, blushing slightly and trying to ignore the giggles of her classmates.  After a couple of wrong guesses, she did find him.  He was on the Astronomy tower looking for stars.

"I expected something a bit more subtle and offbeat from you," she said to him.  "This place is really gauche, you know what I mean?"

"Despite its other uses," Remus said, "I've found it actually has a good view of the stars.  It's Hogwarts' best-kept secret."

"And the view is even better at night."  She sat a few feet down from him on the ledge, dangling her feet over the wall.

"Aren't you supposed to be in class?" he said, not irritably.

"The same one you're supposed to be in.  If you want me gone, don't be so polite about it.  Just shove me over the edge."

"No, I'm just worried who I'll get the homework from."

"Oh, I'll get it off McDonough," she said.  "He is a living paradox.  The intelligent Hufflepuff."

"They aren't so rare.  I hear there was one last century.  Anyway," Remus said, "I was almost in Hufflepuff myself."

"Really?"  Rohanna raised a mahogany eyebrow.  "Why Gryffindor, then?"

"Oh, I wanted to be in Hufflepuff.  I told the Sorting Hat as much, but it seemed to think it knew better than me.  It couldn't have known," he said pensively.  "At least, I hope it didn't."

"This is probably rude of me – forget that, it's extremely rude, but do you like Sirius?"

"Not anymore."

"Did you?"

"Only as a friend."  Remus grinned crookedly.  "Despite the rumors, I don't lean that way.  Of course it's a natural conclusion when someone like me only uses this place to look at the stars."

"It is a wee bit suspicious," Rohanna agreed.  "If you don't like the rumors you ought to just have a fling with some girl to set the record straight."

"Oh no," Remus said.  "I'm much too honorable for that."

"I'm with the hat," said Rohanna.  "Any more Gryffindor and you'd snap in two."  She swung her feet back over the ledge.  "I'd love to sit and argue Sorting philosophy with you forever, but I don't want to add to the large body of rumors about you by not going back to class.  Besides, McDonough is way more arrogant than your average Huff-n-Puff.  _He_ ought to be in Gryffindor if you ask me."

"Thanks," he said.  "For coming up.  I don't appreciate the crack about Gryffindor at all."

"Oh, don't thank me.  It was a purely selfish act on my part.  You're the only remotely interesting person in that class and I had to make sure you hadn't jumped off the tower, or else the sheer boredom would have driven me over the edge within a week.  Thank _you_ for having the guts to keep living."

"That was a purely selfish act on my part."

Rohanna grinned.  "Keep it up and you might just find yourself in Ravenclaw, who by the way kicked your butt in Quidditch."

"We also beat your brother's team senseless," Remus said.

"Don't I know it.  I was cheering for Gryffindor the whole time."  Rohanna flapped the creases out of her robes.  "I have to run.  I'll be in the library this evening if you feel like doing some work."

"What time?"

"The _whole_ time," she said.  "Rumor has it the Ravenclaw common room is the library.  Of course you know how rumors are."  She smirked.  "Sayonara, pal."

As she left Remus remembered that the only reason she'd noticed him in the first place was because of Sirius.  He decided he wasn't going down to lunch after all.

* * *

Things were different after April first.  That seemed fairly obvious to Remus, but his three friends without exception acted as though nothing had happened since March or, for that matter, since Halloween Eve.  If Remus hadn't personally been there, he might have suspected they were right.  As it was, the charade had begun increasingly to disgust him.  When they were grouped about the fireplace, Lily and James talking quietly, Peter and Sirius squirting each other with Gobstones and Remus reading, it was all he could do not to yell at them, "What were you doing on the morning of April first?"  The only thing keeping him quiet was the suspicion that he didn't want to hear their answer.  

And the only thing truly different was that there were no more jokes about Remus and Sirius being anything more than friends.  Though truthfully Remus didn't know if he and Sirius were even friends.  Sirius didn't act any differently, but the distance was there.  Remus assumed it was because he had spoiled the joke.  It didn't occur to him that he'd done so by making it seem true, and that Sirius might think it true.

Still, it was a relief when Professor McGonagall sent around the sign-up sheet for Easter break and Remus was the only one who signed it.  Peter and Sirius were both going home, and James was going to spend the break at Lily's house.  "I hope she was joking about her sister," James said.  "If not, well, I guess it's better to find out sooner than later."

"Right," Sirius said.  "Before you're related to her, you mean."

James scowled.  "I wouldn't have put it that way, but yeah.  Pretty much."

During all of this, everyone seemed to have forgotten that April fifteenth happened to be Remus's birthday and it fell right in the middle of break.  Remus had a feeling that this was not because they were planning something special for it.  He wondered if things would have been different if Sirius had contented himself with some lesser prank.  He wondered if they weren't all secretly happy to be gone, or even if they had planned it so.  Remus would not have been greatly surprised to discover they had.  He was suddenly outside their circle, while all four of them acted to the world and each other as if nothing had changed.

For his part, Remus was glad to see them gone, even though he would never admit as much aloud.  The first full day of vacation, Remus wandered down to the library, because he knew full well that Rohanna would be there.  And he was right.

Rohanna waved madly at him from her table, a tiny round oak one that was covered with a hundred generations of initials, in the corner beneath a window.  Remus perched on the edge, since she had the only chair that didn't look as though it was about to collapse.  She was reading out of a miniature book, maybe the size of a postcard, which was inscribed in a hand that made Remus feel nauseated just looking at it.

"What on earth is that?" he said.  "Can you even read it, or are you just pretending?"

"I'm _trying _to translate it," she said irritably.  "Only none of the spells are any help, since I can't find a key for it.  You're good with languages, you take a look at it."  She flung the book at him and buried her head in her folded arms.

"I'm no such thing," Remus said, but he was already flipping through the pages.  "Have you got a magnifying glass or something?"

"You're a wizard," she snapped, her voice muffled in the table.  "What do you need with an idiot piece of glass?"  
  


"I'm hopeless at ocular spells," Remus informed her.  "You ought to know that."

"To hear you tell it, you're hopeless at everything," Rohanna grouched, but she did put the spell on him.

"Much better," he said, and proceeded to study the manuscript for so long that Rohanna actually fell asleep.  When she began to snore, Remus cast a Quietus charm on her and kept working.  At one point he eased off the table and returned with a dictionary; then he removed the quill that was holding Rohanna's hair up and began scribbling on a piece of her parchment.  She only woke up when she began to inhale a lock of her hair, and even then Remus was still working.

"Yargh," she said, pulling her hair out of her mouth.  Absently Remus removed the charm.  "Ugh," she added.  "I don't normally drool in my sleep."

"I do," Remus said, continuing to write.

"Is that my quill?"

"It was the only one around."

"What kind of knothead comes to the library without his quill?" she asked the table.  "I could have choked myself."

"I wouldn't have let you."  Remus scribbled a final sentence and handed parchment, book and quill to her triumphantly.  "It's in Fleeish," he explained as she scanned his notes.  "That isn't much different from Breeish, which I've seen before, so I could help you out with a translation spell at least –"

"Are you crazy?  I need a translation spell just for your writing, and I've never even heard of Breeish."  Rohanna gave him back the book and the notes, but kept her quill.  "This one's way out of my league."

Remus took them back, not reluctantly.  "This ought to amuse me for the rest of vacation."

"Don't you try telling me that translation is more entertaining than your friends."  Rohanna deftly twisted her hair up and skewered it with her quill.  "Are they mad at you, or are you mad at them?"  
  


"They went home for break," Remus said, not looking at her.

"Oh."  Rohanna considered him for a moment.  "Do you feel like visiting the Ravenclaw commons?"

"Er –"  Remus hesitated.  "Won't there be a bunch of people around?"

Rohanna rolled her eyes.  "You've got to be kidding me.  This time of day, they're all in here."

Looking around, Remus had to admit that the library appeared to contain approximately half the members of Ravenclaw house.  "Well –"

"Come on," she said impatiently.  "Grab your moldy old book and let's go."

"It was your moldy old book first," Remus felt obliged to point out, but he tucked it under his arm and followed Rohanna out of the library.

Remus had visited the Ravenclaw common room before, twice in fact, during his quest to procure Sirius a set of Ravenclaw curtains for Christmas.  (But Remus had determined not to think of Sirius over break.  It hurt his heart to picture the gleeful expression on Sirius's face when he'd ripped open those curtains.)  However, those previous visits had been in the dead of night, running like mad through the common room to get to Rohanna's room, so Remus had never actually seen the common room in full daylight.  Moreover, Rohanna had insisted on his wearing a blindfold the entire way there, so Remus wasn't even sure where the entrance was.

"So how come you can show me the way now?" Remus demanded, trailing her through the library.  "What's the difference, besides a few months?"

"Honestly Remus, sometimes you worry me.  I'm almost certain that the noble house of Ravenclaw is better off without you."  Rohanna turned right out of the library and proceeded down the corridor, which became ever narrower until it ended in a cul-de-sac.  On the wall hung a tapestry with an intricate floral pattern.  Rohanna leaned forward and blew on it, and silky living flower petals fluttered in the air around them.  Remus touched one and it disappeared.  Now the tapestried vines were bare and a young girl in a fluttery yellow dress stepped out from behind them.  "Password?"

"Fig Newtons," Rohanna said and the tapestry rolled itself up.

"What kind of crazy password is that?" Remus said.

"I thought it was quite good."  Rohanna swept past him into the Ravenclaw common room, and Remus followed.

Dusty blue couches were scattered about the octagonal room.  The walls were covered with dusty hangings, and dust motes drifted from the ceiling in the butterscotch light.  "This place is hell on allergies," Rohanna said, choosing a couch.

"How come there aren't any tables?" Remus said, taking a seat next to her.

"Rowena always said her students didn't need any more incentive to work themselves to death."  Rohanna grinned.  "As usual, she was right."

"How d'you know what she said?"  
  


"Oh, I read her life history," Rohanna said.  "All fifteen volumes.  It got dull in spots, like the first twenty years of her life.  She spent them reading.  Then she met Godric and wow, the sparks flew and they were having a flaming affair right under Salazar's nose –"

"Godric _Gryffindor_?" said Remus.

"Of course.  Don't you read anything?  He was the biggest player in Hogwarts history, probably all of history.  He got a Time-Turner just so he could be with three women at once, that would have been Helga, Rowena and I think maybe Indred, but he ditched her later for some redheaded floozy.  And that's just the first chapter," she said, smirking at Remus in a knowing way.  "Don't tell me you haven't heard any of that."

"The first chapter of what?" Remus said, recovering his wits at last.

"_Hogwarts, a History_.  Oh, I know what everyone says about it, and the bits about construction and house-elves and headmasters really are intolerable, but boy, _Lives of the Founders_ is great bedtime reading."

"I bet the life of Godric Gryffindor is even better," Remus said.

"Oh, it is.  It's in the Restricted Section and there's not a hint of Dark magic in it," Rohanna said.  "That book taught me more than I'll ever need to know, let me tell you."

"Good Lord," Remus said.  "So how'd things turn out?"

"Well, Salazar didn't like Godric's ethics, can't blame him, and Godric thought Salazar was an ice cube because he liked snakes better than people.  Anyway, Godric ended up ditching both Helga and Rowena for some prophetess named Sallina, and they had half a dozen kids or so.  Helga had a kind of lukewarm affair with Salazar, but she still wanted Godric so she ended up stabbing herself with a carving knife and it took her five hours to die.  Godric didn't even come to her funeral, so Rowena and Salazar put some kind of nasty curse on him so he couldn't, er, discharge his conjugal duties, anyhow Sallina left him for Salazar, Godric killed both of them, Rowena locked him up in a privy for the last sixty-five years of his life and she died of old age."

"Wow," said Remus.  "I wonder when they had time to found Hogwarts."

"They didn't," Rohanna said.  "They just kind of took credit for it, named the houses after themselves and rewrote the history books.  And we act like they're third step-cousins to royalty."  Rohanna snorted.  "Bunch of tenth-century soap opera stars if you ask me."

"Does anyone else know all that?" Remus asked.

"You mean besides Ravenclaw house?  Dumbledore, but he thinks it's hysterical.  He likes to trot out that story when the heads of all the other magical schools start maundering on about their illustrious founders."  Rohanna yawned.  "But Dumbledore's always been a facetious old loony, even you ought to know that.  Anyhow I didn't drag you here to educate you about our distinguished founders."

"Why did you drag me here?"

"To admire those musty old wall hangings, why else?  Listen, Remus, you're a fabulous person, you know runes better than anyone else alive, you're lots of fun to argue with, but if you think I want to kiss you, you're absolutely out of your tree."

"_What_?"

"Oh, no, that's what you're going to say to me," Rohanna said, blushing furiously.  "What I really meant to say was, if you're quite over Sirius by now, I haven't got anything better to do at the moment."

"How did I get along without you?" Remus said, straight-faced.  "You make me feel ten feet tall.  Don't you ever listen to a word I say?  I told you, Sirius and I were never more than friends, and now I don't know if we're even that."

"Well," said Rohanna.  "As long as we've got that point cleared up."

And now for a word on my role as author.  I am not here to increase your heart rate with an exquisitely rendered snog session.  For that, there are other stories and other authors.  All I can really do is tell you what happened.  So here it is – 

He kissed her.  She kissed him back.

Or maybe it was the other way round.

They didn't bother arguing the point, so neither will I.


	9. Epidemic

Chapter 9 – Epidemic

All that first afternoon of vacation, Remus spent with Rohanna learning the history of Hogwarts.  It wasn't until supper was over and they had left Great Hall together that Remus remembered what day it was.

"So what do you feel like doing now?"  Rohanna wiggled her eyebrows at him.  "Tonight's the full moon and I hear the Astronomy tower has a great view of the night sky."

Remus nearly stopped breathing.  His brain whirled, hunting for an excuse that didn't involve the sudden death of an immediate family member.  "Er," he said.  "Actually, I promised Sirius I'd tend his potion tonight.  It's at a critical stage."

Rohanna frowned.  "He didn't take it with him?"

"He's a bit paranoid," Remus said.  "He didn't want to subject it to the stresses of travel."

"Haven't you done enough for that ungrateful twat?" Rohanna said angrily.  "He's got some nerve, expecting you to tend his potion after what he did to you."

"Well –"  Remus paused.  She didn't know the half of what he'd done for Sirius.

"If I were you, I'd put something really putrid in there and say a rat fell in by accident."

Remus thought reflexively of Peter.  "You keep forgetting I'm a Gryffindor."

"Curse your honor."  Rohanna sighed.  "At least walk me back to the common room.  Then the third-floor boggarts won't have a chance."

Luckily Madame Pomfrey didn't ask why he was late, but she still seemed rather put out; she preserved a grim silence on the way to the Whomping Willow and slammed the door of the Shrieking Shack on him with what Remus suspected was malicious pleasure.  It was the first full moon since Christmas Eve that Padfoot, Prongs and Wormtail had not been there, which meant he had not even their midnight hunt to sustain him.

It was not exactly a restful night.

Madame Pomfrey came for him at dawn.  Normally Remus would have spent the day in the hospital wing, but he insisted on going back to his dormitory.  After he reminded her that arguing was wasting what little strength remained to him, she gave in.  Remus fell promptly asleep and was only awakened when someone began pounding on the door.

"Urk," he protested.

"Are you in there, Remus?"  Even in his marshmallow-brained state, Rohanna's voice was unmistakable.

Panicking, Remus attempted to get out of bed, only to collapse on the floor.  His legs categorically refused to hold him up.

"What was that noise?  Are you dead, Remus?"

"Yes, I passed away several hours ago," he tried to say, but only the first word came out and it sounded like the Bullfrog word for 'mayfly.'  This seemed patently unfair, because Remus was hopeless at Bullfrog in his normal state.

"I'm coming in, Remus," she yelled and before Remus could even consider moving, she did.

"Well," Rohanna said.  "Now I know why you weren't at lunch."

"I locked the door," Remus said, with some effort.

Rohanna snorted.  "You couldn't cast a spell to keep out a gnat right now.  So do you tell me what's wrong, or do I drag you up to the hospital wing and have Madame Pomfrey do it?"

Needless to say, Remus's reasoning powers were not at their peak.  "I have epilepsy," he said.

"Oh, wow," she said in the voice you use when someone you barely know has died.  "I had no idea."

"I don't advertise it," he said.

"I imagine not."  At last Rohanna seemed to realize that Remus slept in nothing but his boxers.  "Should I not be here?"

"Technically no, you shouldn't," Remus said.  "But I'm not going to take off any more clothes, if that's what's worrying you.  Could you get that bottle on the desk?"

Rohanna went over to the desk.  "This one?"

"No, that's my ink.  The other one."

She brought it to him.  "What is it?"

"A potion Sirius made for me.  It helps."  It did; after he'd drunk it, Remus could stand again.  He began searching through his trunk for fresh clothes.

Rohanna sat down on Sirius's bed, smiling briefly at the sight of her curtains.  "How often do you, er –"

"It depends.  Sometimes I have three episodes in a couple days and sometimes I go months without one."  Remus was forced to admit to himself that he wasn't entirely stupid after all.  Convenient illness, epilepsy.  Particularly since he might need to have another episode the next day.

Luckily, Remus was able to take care of Sirius's potion that night as well, since the critical stage had not yet run its course.  Better, Rohanna let him sleep the next day, now that she thought he had a mysterious neurological condition.  Altogether things were working out nicely.

That was on Saturday, and Remus's birthday was on Wednesday.  Rohanna found out when an owl brought Sirius's present a day early, and she promptly left for Hogsmeade, "to buy you a present, of course.  Who's to say your other so-called friends are going to remember?"

But they did.  In addition to the flying quill from Sirius, Peter sent him a copy of _L'Histoire__ de la Communauté des Sorciers Français_¹ in translation (the French wizarding society had long fascinated him), and James sent him a box of fiery mints that promised to refill itself.  Adding the cost of owl post (only Peter owned an owl), Remus figured they were all feeling a bit guilty.

Remus had to go to Rohanna's room to get his present from her; she'd forgotten to buy any wrapping paper.  It was a gorgeous bronze box with runes inscribed around the sides.

" 'If you would open this box, whatever you touch will reveal itself to its owner,' " Remus read.

"Oh, is that what it says?  I thought it said 'opening this box with a touch will reveal yourself to its owner.'  But you'll help me study, right?"

Rohanna had also made him a birthday cake festooned with live butterflies, most of which had already flown away.  They chased the others off and ate the entire thing instead of going down to eat.  For dessert, they ate all of Remus's mints to see if the box really refilled itself.  It did.

They spent the rest of Easter break together laughing in the library, reading in the Ravenclaw common room and watching stars on the Astronomy tower.  It was the best ten consecutive days of Remus's life.  Then his friends returned and asked what he'd been doing over break.

"Rohanna Lynch?" James said, frowning.  "You know, her entire family is nuts about Quidditch and Jacobson said she is the worst player he's ever seen."

"Does she like you?" Sirius said.  "Or is she just after – you know.  Your reputation."

"Her brother's in Slytherin," Peter said.  "He hangs around with Bagman and that crowd."

So if Remus spent more time in Ravenclaw's common room than Gryffindor's, it was no great surprise.  But in the opinion of his friends, it was outright treason to sit with her in the Ravenclaw stands during the Quidditch final.

"I mean, we're not exactly playing them," James said.  "But if they get over two hundred twenty points, they've got the Cup."

"I think he's jealous," Peter said.  "He really wanted to be on the team."

"I remember second year," James said, "when you told him he wasn't allowed on the team."  He rolled his eyes eloquently.  "Good golly."

"If I was in Ravenclaw, would you go sit with me?" Lily asked James, who had his arm around her shoulders.

James grinned.  "Only if my friends didn't like you."

Peter snickered on cue.  Sirius leaped up, the better to boo the Slytherin team, who had just marched onto the field.

"Sit yourself down," James said, yanking on Sirius's cloak.  "They're forty points behind Ravenclaw."

"I know, but I just can't stand looking at them," Sirius said.  "It's nothing personal."

"I can't believe him," Peter said, craning for another look as if he couldn't.  "You just don't do that to Gryffindor."

"Remus isn't the first person in Hogwarts history to have a girlfriend from another house," Sirius pointed out.  "It's hardly treason."

"What, you aren't ragging on Remus?" said James.  "I thought that was your new favorite hobby."

Sirius flushed.  "I thought we agreed that was a rotten judgment on my part."

"I don't notice you apologizing to him," James said.  "He seems to have noticed, too.  I mean, he goes six and a half years without looking at a girl and all of a sudden he has this gorgeous Ravenclaw girlfriend –"

"James!" said Lily reprovingly.

"I'm sorry, sweet, but I can't insult her even though I happen to think you're gorgeouser."

"How precious," Sirius said.  "James seems to have realized just in time that other people's feelings matter."

"You aren't exactly qualified to judge, though, are you?" Lily said.

Sirius flushed again, and this time kept his mouth shut.

"Well, there they go," James said.  "Let's hope one of them catches the Snitch in the next five minutes."

"They're not stupid," Sirius said.  "Ravenclaw at least.  I bet they try to drag this game out all night so they can have a chance at the Cup."

"If it comes down to that, Ravenclaw would rather we won, but Slytherin would rather Ravenclaw won," James said.  "So it's a bit of a stalemate."

"Either way, the Seekers won't be doing much for a while, then once either of them gets enough goals, it'll be all-out from then on," Sirius said.  "Gentlemen, this is going to be a tough one.  And lady."

He was right.  Ravenclaw and Slytherin were very well matched, and it took a full three hours for Ravenclaw to score seven goals and Slytherin six.  The Ravenclaw stands were in an uproar; if they captured the Snitch now, they would have exactly the same number of points as Gryffindor.  The only two who weren't screaming themselves hoarse were Remus and Rohanna.  Through Sirius's Omnioculars, they appeared to be deep in talk and oblivious to their surroundings.  They might have been discussing runes in the library.

"She's probably giving him the life histories of everyone on the field," Sirius said irritably, zooming in to see if he could read their lips.  Just then the entire stadium erupted in a colossal roar and James howled, "Jacobson got the Snitch – and we're tied with Ravenclaw!"

"Oh _hell_," Sirius said.  "I can't _believe I missed it."_

The Ravenclaw and Slytherin teams touched down, Sander Jacobson still clutching the Snitch, and the stands slowly quieted as Dumbledore got up to address them.

"For only the third time in Hogwarts history, two teams have earned the same amount of points at the end of the tournament."  Dumbledore waited, smiling benevolently, for the fresh cheers to die down.  "The first time this happened, there was really only room for one name on the Cup, so the two teams simply played until another goal was scored.  This proved controversial, not least because the entire school wanted to see an extra game of Quidditch.  Therefore, Gryffindor and Ravenclaw will play one more game for the Quidditch Cup.  It will take place in four weeks' time so that the Gryffindor team can train properly for the match.  And may the best team win."

"Did you hear that?" James roared.  "Sirius, we're going to play again!"

"Oh my God," Sirius said, and he was actually crying there in the middle of the entire school.  "This is absolutely the best day of my life."  He pulled out his handkerchief and dabbed his eyes with it, just as Remus barreled up to him yelling, "Sirius, you're going to play again, aren't you excited?"

Sirius blotted his glasses dry with trembling hands.  "You have no idea," he said.

* * *

It was Tuesday night and, for Lily and her friends, that was synonymous with spill-your-guts night.  There were no secrets in the Gryffindor seventh-year girls' dorm; living there meant sharing not only space, but also ink, lip gloss, the contents of your diary and the object of your moonstruck daydreams.  Ever since Lily had begun going out with James, her turn usually took most of the evening because everyone enjoyed hearing about James (except for Kate, who was crazy in love with Remus.  No one had had the heart to tell her that he spent every day with Rohanna Lynch and, rumor had it, most of the nights as well.)

"So what's the latest with James?" asked Sibyl keenly – the last shred of her professional detachment had long since vanished.

"Oh, you haven't heard?" Lily said irritably.  The pressure of such a high-profile romance was finally starting to get to her.  Admittedly it was unnerving to discover what James thought by overhearing it in the bathroom from a bunch of third-years she didn't know, which half the time was a lie anyway.  This was Lily's first serious relationship, but somehow she thought they should be more spending time with someone you loved and less time tracking down herds of wild rumors.  So Lily thought she'd better set the record straight here, at least.  

"Well, we got in a fight," she said, looking down at her hands.

"Yeah, we know, let's have the dirt," Sibyl ordered, settling into a more comfortable position.

"Er," Lily said.  She'd just realized that it involved Remus, and Remus's having a girlfriend, and that if she mentioned it Kate would probably kill herself.  "I'm about to have a mental breakdown, would you rather talk about that?"

"I don't know," Samantha said.  "Does it involve James?"

"Naturally.  I mean, in case you hadn't noticed, James is pretty much my life these days.  That and trying not to fail Arithmancy, which now I think about it is probably because James is my life."

"I did notice there seems to be one less of us lately," Aileen said.  "But I guess I thought that was because Kate is stalking Remus."

"That's just it," Kate said.  "I can't stalk him, because I can't find him.  He's never in the common room anymore."  She sighed profoundly.  "I mean, I do see him in class, but there's still the rest of the day to fill up."

"Which must be why _you're_ about to fail," Lily said.

"Oh, poor Kate," Aileen said, putting an arm around her.  "Men are such jerks, aren't they."

"Why is it that I'm the only one around here who isn't obsessed with a boy?" Sibyl said.  "I mean, Lily has James, Kate has Remus –"

Kate gave her a tremulous smile.  "Do you really think so?"

" – Aileen has Severus –"

"Excuse me," Aileen said icily.  "He's a whiz in Potions, that is the one and only reason I borrow notes from him."

"Sirius is better," Sibyl said.  "Plus he's on the Quidditch team, and Severus flies like an elephant."

"Malicious little sprite, aren't you," Aileen snapped.

"But you're not obsessed with Sirius," Lily said.  "That's the important thing."

Sibyl flushed.  "It's not my fault I have a weakness for curly hair."

"I'm not obsessed with anyone," Samantha offered.

"Peter's still free," Lily said irritably, just as one of the school owls fluttered in the window and dropped a note in her lap.

"Ooh, read it!" everyone demanded, crowding around for a look.

"If you don't mind," Lily snapped, "I would like to read my own mail first, by myself."

She stomped out of the room and locked the door from the outside with a good strong charm.  No one was in the hallway, so Lily simply sat down on the floor to read her letter.  It said, 'Lily, I love you, please don't ignore me any longer.'  It was not signed.

Lily promptly melted.  "How adorable," she sighed to herself.  "James is such a treasure.  I can't believe I got mad at him just because he thinks I'm jealous of Rohanna because her boyfriend is sweet and thoughtful and even-tempered."

Lily quickly burnt the letter with a spell, just to be sure her nosy roommates couldn't get their hands on it, and ran down to the common room.

James was sitting with Sirius in front of the fire, and they were arguing over a piece of paper.  Both of them were wearing their Quidditch robes and James's unkempt hair was even more so than usual.

"James, thank you for…" Lily began and trailed off as they both turned to face her with identical looks of irritation.

"Thank you for what?" James said.  "Look, this'll have to wait until I can convince Sirius what an imbecile he is, then you can tell me what your spy network said about me today.  Okay?"

"So… you didn't just send me a note?" Lily said timidly.

"You just got a note?"  James dropped his paper, looking thunderous.  "What'd it say?"

Lily hesitantly quoted it for him.

"Let me see it," James said, striding toward the girls' staircase.  "Was it signed?"

"No, but – I burned it.  I didn't want the girls to see it."

James whirled around.  "You burned it?  What kind of idiot torches the evidence?"

"I didn't know!" Lily wailed.  "I'm sorry, okay?  Why do you have to be so hateful about it?"

"Don't make a scene," James snapped.  "The entire school's going to be talking.  And don't tell your posse, they're worse."  He stamped off in the direction of the boys' dormitories.

Lily turned to Sirius, who was still sitting on the couch watching her.  She was quivering and her mythical eyes were awash with tears.  "I'm so horrible," she whispered just before she broke down entirely.

Sirius guided her over to the couch and let her sob into his Quidditch robes, thinking uncomfortably about the last time he'd consoled a sobbing Lily and the rumors that were likely to result this time.  Sirius's life was difficult enough without him becoming enmeshed in a fictional love triangle.  If it was indeed fictional, which thought made Sirius very squirmy.  He patted Lily's head ineffectually and wished he were still out on the Quidditch field being bawled out by James.

After a while Lily released him.  Her eyes were still streaming, but she was smiling.  "Thank you, Sirius."

He didn't have the heart to tell her that she'd probably just made his own personal hell a few degrees hotter.  "You're welcome."

Lily wiped her eyes on Sirius's scarf, which he had just succeeded in removing a jelly stain from two days previously.  "I have to go talk to James now."

"Okay."

Lily tried on another smile, one that didn't look quite as miserable, and marched off to the boys' dormitories.  Watching her go, Sirius ceased to wonder why the Sorting Hat had chosen as it had.  Even the serpentine, grubbing Snape was company preferable to James at a time like this.  A snake was, after all, more easily squashed than a lion.  

* * *

What with schoolwork, and Quidditch practices that lasted well into the night, and Sirius's maniacal work schedule, and dramatic interludes featuring Lily and James, and never really seeing Remus except for meals and bedtime, the days just whizzed by.  Until one fine morning, about two weeks before the final Quidditch final, Sirius came in to breakfast fifteen minutes late and dumbfounded the entire school.

Not that his lateness was so unusual.  Actually, it would have been more surprising if he'd arrived on time.  No, what had every single person in the hall gawping at him was the fact that he was a different Sirius altogether.  This was the upgraded, enhanced, fatally sexy version of Sirius Black.  He was the "after" photograph, he was the fashion industry, he was everyone's impossible ideal in the living flesh.  Naturally, no one could stop staring.

"Sorry I'm late," Sirius said, taking his seat and loading his plate with pancakes.  "But I had this dream about a basketful of frogs and –"  He broke off.  "What's everyone staring for?  You didn't transfigure my tie again, did you?"

"No," James said.  He looked tired but triumphant.  "I put the appearance-altering spells on you last night after you fell asleep.  It took until four o'clock but boy, was it worth it."

"Oh no."  Sirius paled.  "You weren't joking about giving me those nasty green sores, then?"

"Relax," Remus said acidly.  "You're perfect."

"Then what're they all looking at?"

"Think about it, Sirius.  You just dethroned me as Hogwarts' resident sex god."

Sirius stared.  "But I –"

"Isn't that what you wanted?" said Remus and there was an ironic twist to his smile.  "You want to be careful what you wish for, because it has a way of turning around and smacking you in the face."

"Sirius," said Lily, who was sitting next to James, "don't worry.  You look fabulous."

"I, er –"  Sirius went very red, which only made him look more fantastic.  "Thanks, but it's all down to James."

"If I do say so myself," James said, "I did a damn good job."

"Could you do me next?" Peter asked.

Farther down the table, Sibyl said dramatically, "I think I might be going to die."  She pretended to swoon into her pumpkin juice.

It was the same the rest of that day.  All the girls went giggly whenever they looked at Sirius, which was often.  All the boys asked, in tones ranging from curious to outright jealous, how he'd done it.  And everyone wanted James to make him into an underwear model too.

"If I tried to fix everyone up," James would say, "I'd die of sleep deprivation halfway through, and the rest of you would be really hacked off about it, now, wouldn't you?  I thought so."

After class, Remus went to the library to meet Rohanna.  He thought she might have something to say besides Sirius, but he was wrong.

"So what happened to Sirius?" she said.  "Absolutely everyone's talking about him."

"Well, he should be happy, because that's what he wanted.  To be everyone's favorite subject," Remus said dully.  "He got James to fix him up."

"But that's insanely advanced magic," said Rohanna.  "Most wizards and witches could never do it."

"James spends his free time doing things that everyone says are impossible, and making them look easy," he said.  "But he does them for their own sake.  Not for Sirius's, and certainly not for mine."  He smiled bitterly at himself.  "Well, there is one good thing about all this," he added, perking up a bit.  "Now that everyone has Sirius to idolize, maybe they'll finally forget about me."

"You're an incurable optimist," Rohanna said.  "Also, if it helps, I happen to think you're cuter than Sirius even without extensive magical surgery."

"Wonderful," Remus said.  "It's nice to know I don't have to go under the wand to keep you around."

After supper Remus went back up to Gryffindor tower.  James, Lily and Peter were all around the fireplace, but Sirius was nowhere to be seen.  Remus continued up to the dorm and Sirius was sitting at the desk, his perfect chin on his perfect hand, looking out the window.

"I'll be off then," Remus said, stopping just inside the door.

"If you want," Sirius said in a small miserable voice.

"What's wrong, Sirius?  I thought you wanted to be me.  Isn't perfection everything you thought it'd be?" Remus said, not unkindly.

"Shut up," Sirius said wearily.  "Do me an immense favor and just shut up."

"I'll do you one better.  I'll just leave."  Remus came over to the desk.  "All I need is my book and the rune dictionary."

"This thing?"  Sirius turned toward Remus, handed him the book that Rohanna had given him.  For the first time that day, Remus really looked at Sirius (probably the only person in the school who hadn't already), and his old self was still there but more faithfully executed, as if another layer of stone had fallen away from the sculptor's chisel and revealed what was underneath.

"Go on, take a good long gawk," Sirius said.  "What do you think?  Aren't I a Greek god?  Only thing is, I don't have your smile.  It's not quite right, somehow."

"It's too perfect," Remus said.  "Mine's sort of lopsided."

"Smile," Sirius ordered.  Remus gave a rather convincing one.

"Damn," he said, sinking his face into his arms.  "Damn, you're right."  He didn't say anything else for a long time, so Remus picked up his dictionary and left.

He went to the roof, knowing that was the closest he could come to absolute privacy.  Everywhere else in Hogwarts was prone to be invaded by either your worst enemy or your longtime crush.  However, Remus was fairly safe from both of them, and it was a perfect night for rune translations.  The sky was so lucid that Remus, squinting, thought he could see infinity.  It was already May and the breeze dancing with the pages was no longer frigid, but merely cold.  May of his final year at Hogwarts, less than a month left here and the thought gave him delicious pain.  Remus turned his mind away and bent his head to the translation.

His wandlight was hardly enough, it was far too small for an entire page, but Remus resolved to translate the title at least before he gave up.  He'd forgotten his quill, so he used his wand to trace bright words beneath the runes.  When he was finished, he closed the dictionary and stared at the shimmering phrase until it scorched his eyes.  Then he pitched the miniature book into the darkness beyond.  He wanted nothing whatsoever to do with the journal of Salazar Slytherin.  The _intimate_ journal of Salazar Slytherin.

* * *

Sirius was perfect.  But perfection always came at a price.  Sometime during the night Sirius contracted a moist pink rash all across his face and neck, which James swore up hill and down dale he had not caused.  Not with malicious intent anyhow.  Probably just a side effect, he said soothingly, maybe a potion would help?

None of them did.  One, in fact, turned his face a venomous purple and it took two hours to get it back to pink.  "All right," James said at last.  "Try this," and he handed Sirius a pink bottle full of viscous pink goop.

"What is this?"  Sirius sniffed at it suspiciously, but refrained from tasting it.  "Some kind of potion?"

"Actually it's calamine lotion," James said, sniggering.  "Muggle-made, you know, but it works a treat."

"Fine," Sirius said.  "I'm desperate."  So he globbed on the pink concoction, which he had to admit felt quite soothing on the rash.  Then it dried.

"Help," Sirius said, shaping his lips carefully.  "I can't move my face."

James thought this was simply hysterical.  He had not laughed so hard since Delmar the lizard had somehow gotten loose and reduced Sirius's pillow to its component feathers and strings of well-chewed cloth.  However, it was significantly less amusing the next day when Sirius's entire being centered on a set of tiny, irritating pink bumps.

In the morning, Sirius spent half an hour applying calamine lotion with a small sponge, and then realized that it had to dry before he could get dressed.  So for the second day in a row he was late to breakfast, only this time he was the target of whispered comments and stifled giggles.  During breakfast he polled half the Gryffindor table as to whether he looked weird.  No one could truthfully say yes or no; the most common response was, "Ah, Sirius, don't worry about it."

Of course that didn't stop it from occupying his every thought.  He spent an inordinate amount of time scrutinizing himself in every reflective surface available, including other people's glasses (he'd gleefully shattered his own in celebration of his new twenty-twenty vision).  And somehow every comment, every conversation became a discussion of that abominable itch.

Finally James said to Peter, "Tell me I'm not as narcissistic and self-centered as he is."

"Of course not," Peter said.  "You're worse."

James paled.  "From this day on, I'm a new man."

Their second class of the day was Care of Magical Creatures.  While Remus was in Ancient Runes, presumably decoding secrets of the ancient English peoples and flirting madly with Rohanna Lynch, James, Peter and Sirius were outside, sitting on the chill grass at the edge of the lake, listening to Professor Kettleburn's intensely dull lecture on the anatomy and culture of merpeople.

"It's May, for goodness' sake," Peter said, shivering violently as a lake breeze tugged at their cloaks.  "I thought it was supposed to be warm."

"Curses," said James.  "My ink's frozen over.  Ah well, I guess there won't be any dreary note-taking for me today."

Sirius was sitting right by the lake's edge, absently peeling flakes of calamine lotion off his neck and flicking them away.  The discarded flakes were forming a nauseatingly pink deposit on the water's surface.

James jabbed Sirius in the solar plexus.  "Would you stop that?" he hissed.  "It is so disgusting."

Sirius sent him a sulky look and peeled off a particularly long strip.  "You have no sympathy for the pain of your fellow human beings.  This is actually very therapeutic."  He flicked it so it landed right on top of the others.

"It's repulsive and boorish, is what it is."

Just then, a fish swam up and began nibbling at the pink mass.  Sirius and James watched, fascinated.  Within five minutes, all of it had disappeared, but the fish wasn't swimming away.

"Wonder if he's going to throw it up," James whispered, watching the vague shadowy form.  "Surely it won't look any worse than it did before."

"What did they put in that stuff?" Sirius whispered back, equally enthralled.  "D'you suppose it might kill him?"

"You put that junk on your skin," James pointed out.  "And fish are used to all sorts of nasty stuff.  I mean, think about it.  When you flush the toilet, where's all that end up?"

"Ye gods," Sirius said, looking revolted.  "I can't believe I actually drank that water."

"Look," James hissed, poking Sirius again.  The fish was now floating belly-up on the lake, quite apparently dead.

"Wow," Sirius breathed and immediately began trying to get hold of it.

"Sirius, what in the name of Godric are you doing?" James hissed.

Sirius's eyes were gleaming.  "Think of the fun we could have with this baby –"

"Gentlemen, what is going on?" snapped Professor Kettleburn.  He was a short, irascible old man with tufts of white hair sprouting around his ears and a scalp bald and speckled as a bird's egg.  He was also missing an arm and two fingers off the remaining hand, rumored to be the work of a maverick Hebridean Gray.  In point of fact he had a special antipathy for dragons of all kinds and spent the lessons on them detailing the evils they had perpetrated on wizardkind, which if you believed him were endless and unforgivable.

"And what is it that you find so much more fascinating than the skeletal structure of merpeople?" he added irritably.

Sirius turned his large dark eyes on him.  "I'm terribly sorry, Professor, but James here noticed this dead fish and I was only trying to get it for him."

Professor Kettleburn strode over to the water's edge and picked up the unfortunate fish by its tail.  He proceeded to use it as an example of the myriad ways a merperson's skeleton resembled that of a fish.  However, he didn't seem to notice that it was dripping watery pink gunk onto his shoe, which fact had Sirius and James in silent, painful fits of laughter.

The lesson on anatomy continued up till the end of the period, at which time they were dismissed to lunch and Professor Kettleburn flung the fish out into the middle of the lake, droplets of diluted calamine lotion trailing behind the carcass.

"Pity," Sirius said, clutching his aching stomach.  "Now we'll never get hold of the poor bastard.  And I had so much planned for him, too."

"Well, I have to say, that was the most enjoyable Care of Magical Creatures we've had in a long time," James said contentedly as they gathered their things and headed back up to the castle.

"Wasn't it?" Peter said rapturously.  "Merpeople are just _so_ fascinating."


	10. Smooth Criminals

Chapter 10 – Smooth Criminals

On the morning of the tiebreaker Quidditch match, James and Sirius left a full forty-five minutes early for the traditional singing of the theme song and James's pre-game pep talk.  He had his secret copy of the theme song in his hand, absently strangling it as half of Gryffindor house came up to wish him luck.

Finally James said, "We really have to go now, else we'll never get all the verses in.  You did learn the twelfth verse, didn't you, Sirius?"  Lily hugged James for good luck and Sirius because she liked watching him blush.  When the team had gone she and Peter sat down in the armchairs by the fire to wait for game time.  Just then Remus came running out of the boys' hallway and over to where Lily and Peter were sitting.  He was wearing a marvelous cloak the color of a storm cloud.

"Listen," he said, "I have to go see Rohanna, but I want to sit with you guys in the stands.  If I'm not back when you leave, save me a seat, okay?"

He grinned at them and left the common room at a run, and a horrid thought occurred to Lily – she _was_ jealous of Rohanna Lynch.

There were plenty of reasons to be jealous of her.  For one thing, she would have been the most brilliant student in their year if not for James and Sirius, and the only class Lily had ever really done well in was Charms.  Rohanna wore robes that made Lily think of butterfly wings, while her own robes were standard-issue cotton and none too new either.  Rohanna's long dark hair was smooth and straight even in the midst of a deluge, while Lily's frizzed if there was so much as a glass of water nearby.  But the main thing, of course, was her boyfriend.

The thought had been creeping up on Lily for some time that James was not quite as gentlemanly and devoted as a girl could wish for.  But she had not consciously realized, until Remus had come in gloriously tousled and breathless, how it really was.  She simply could not stand Rohanna Lynch.  And having once realized it, the truth seemed more and more apparent.

She had always hated Rohanna Lynch.  There had not been a time when she had not hated Rohanna Lynch.  Even at the last Quidditch game, the way she'd been talking to Remus as if he had no more interest in Quidditch than she.  Lily had hated Rohanna then too, and she wondered how it had taken her so long to realize it.

Remus returned.  His cloak was not fastened properly.  Had it been that way before?  Lily couldn't remember.

"We'd better go," he said.  "That is, if we want decent seats."  

They went out of the common room, out the front doors, down the grassy slope toward the Quidditch pitch.  Remus and Peter were discussing tactics, most of it incomprehensible to Lily, so she ignored them and centered herself on her shining revelation – _she hated Rohanna Lynch._

They found seats.  Lily was in between Remus and Peter.  Everyone around them was screaming as the Gryffindor Quidditch team shot out onto the field one by one, that was the love of her life down there shaking hands with Sander Jacobson and Lily was thinking smugly, I really do.  I hate that Lynch girl with every particle of my being.

"Lily, are you okay?"  The teams were mounting their broomsticks and Remus was tugging on her sleeve.  "You look kind of pale."

"I'm okay," she said.  Of course she was okay.  Her boyfriend had the Quaffle and she finally understood.

"There he goes," Lily yelled into Remus's ear.  "Isn't he wonderful?  There's Sirius, you can tell by that ratty hair.  You know, I don't think he ever combs it."

"Once a week and special occasions," Remus said.

Gryffindor's Chasers were superb.  Within an hour they had scored ten goals to Ravenclaw's two.  Sirius had just scored another goal, yelling his delight to the stands and the girls from every single house were yelling right back at him.  And Jacobson the Ravenclaw Seeker dove.

The Snitch was shimmering down near the foot of the Ravenclaw goal posts.  Abelman was blazing across the field, but he was too far away to catch up – and the Ravenclaws screamed and screamed.

"We lost," Lily said.  She was clutching Remus's sleeve.  "We lost," as the Quidditch Cup turned the air golden and the Ravenclaws roared.

"James and Sirius did great though – oh, Lily, don't cry –"  Remus was entirely too considerate, so he pulled her closer and let her cry into his new cloak while he watched the Ravenclaw team as they, too, cried.

"Come on, Lily," he said at last.  "Come on, we've got to go – James and Sirius –"

Lily let him go and followed the boys out of the stands, the knowledge still burning inside her – _I hate Rohanna Lynch, and everything about her._

"Damn," James said.  His face was set and he looked about to cry.  "Damn.  I don't believe it."

"Oh, James."  Lily put her hands on his shoulders and kissed him.  "James, you did fabulous."

"I shouldn't have done that," Sirius said.  "If only I'd –"

"You did all you could," Remus said harshly.  "You aren't the Seeker."

"Dammit, woman, get off me!" James roared.  He twisted away from her and stomped off to the broomshed.

Lily watched him go.  _I hate Rohanna Lynch,_ she thought mistily.  It would have been easy to cry, but she knew, suddenly, the time for that was over.  She set her chin and went after him.

"There goes the bravest woman God ever made," Sirius said.  "I tell you, I do not envy her James one bit."

_And I do not envy James her,_ Remus did not say.  He only looked pensively after her, and Sirius at him, and Peter at both of them.

"Let's get out of here," Remus said at last.  "I've had enough."

"What?" Sirius said.  "Hiding from your Ravenclaw girlfriend?  But no.  Any girlfriend of yours would be _far_ too considerate –"

"For your information," Remus said, turning around and starting back to the castle, "Rohanna and I decided that no matter who won, we probably wouldn't want to see each other for a while.  At least until tomorrow."

"That so?" Sirius said.  "Does that mean you're going to spend the day with us?  Sort of a consolation prize for the losers.  Well, if we can't have the Cup, at least we've still got you.  Listen, I'll even show you around, seeing as how you've probably forgotten where everything is –"

Remus whirled around.  "Congratulations," he said in a poison voice.  "You've found another way to get me mad – just tell me I don't care."

Peter had a sudden, fatally funny thought.  Remus really did look like a storm cloud, with the eyes and the cloak and all.  He stifled a traitorous giggle.

"Damn you, Sirius, I _do_," Remus said.  He was shaking but his eyes were frozen.

"Act like it then," Sirius said.  "Don't run away.  A Gryffindor wouldn't."

"You don't know jackshit about who Gryffindor was, or what he would have done," Remus said.  "So don't even presume to tell me."

Sirius looked at Remus.  He couldn't remember when it had happened, but the Remus he knew was gone and here was this stranger made of stone.

"Go to hell," he said.  And walked away.

Peter began to giggle helplessly.  "Remus, I know you're going to kill me for this, but do you have any idea how much you look like a thundercloud?"

Remus looked at Peter, this paralyzed giggling boy, and hated him for it.  And wondered, too, when that had happened.

"You can come with me to hell," he said, "for all I care."

* * *

Lily knocked timidly on the door of James's dorm.

"Who's there?" James demanded.

"The love of your life," she said.

"Could you be a little more specific?"

"James, please," Sirius said.  "Do you really think the Quaffle is standing outside your door begging to be let in?"

"Don't mention that in front of me," James said irritably.  "Go let her in, willya?"

"Can't you get your own lazy bum up?" Sirius grouched.  "You overweight son of a swine."

Apparently he couldn't; Sirius opened the door for Lily.  "Come on in, flower," he said, smirking.

"Sirius, please."  James was lying on his bed feeding Delmar Fudge Flies and eating two for every one he gave the lizard.  "I know you and Lily are having a mad affair, but it's not really in good taste to carry it on in front of me."

Sirius opened his mouth to say something and decided it wasn't witty enough.

"So where's the other half?" Lily said.

James replied, "Well, Pete's out hunting seedlings –"

"And as for that hellhound," Sirius interrupted, "he's off screwing his girlfriend for all I care."

"Sirius!" Lily said reproachfully.  "Remus would never do something like that and you know it."

Sirius hmphed in a way that expressed his severe reservations on the subject.

"So," Lily said, trying for a safer topic, "what are you two up to?"

"Waiting for you," James said.

"Leaving," Sirius said.  "I know when I'm not wanted.  If you two could please not fling any clothes on my bed, I would very much appreciate it, thanks."  He slammed the door so hard that Delmar's cage rattled.

"What's with him?" Lily asked.  "And since when does he hate Remus so much?"

"He's jealous," James said knowledgeably.  "I mean, he's the second most attractive guy in school and he's the only one of us not getting any action.  Well, except for Pete, but he doesn't really count."

"Who's the first?" Lily said timidly.

"Do you even have to ask?"  James smirked.  "Come sit over here with me, babe."

She did.

"These Fudge Flies are damn tasty," he said, crunching away.  "Want one?"

"James, people with fly wings stuck between their front teeth are _not_ about to get any," Lily said, crossing her arms.

"Really?"  James jumped up.  "How embarrassing."  He went over to the mirror for a better view.

"What you need," Lily said irritably, "is a Toothflossing Stringmint.  Closely followed by one of those mints you gave Remus."

"Toothflossing Stringmints are for wallies," James said.  "But the mints I can do."  He went over to Remus's trunk and started pawing through it in search of the mints.  Suddenly he stopped digging, and stood still for so long that Lily became curious.

"What'd you find?" she said.

"Damned if I know."

He showed it to her.  It was a small book, about the size of a postcard, its title written in runes.

"Well, I can't read it," Lily said.  "I'm assuming he can."

"I'll ask him about it when he gets back," James said.  "Probably something he's reading for that idiot class of his.  Mint?"

"No thanks," Lily said.  "I don't want to take Remus's stuff."

James rolled his eyes.  "It refills itself, for crying out loud, what's the harm?"

They settled back down on the bed, Delmar as their self-appointed chaperone sitting on Lily's shoulder.

"You know," Lily said, "I don't think I'm technically supposed to be in here."

"Yeah?  Who says?"

Lily frowned.  "I don't know.  I'm sure it's in the school rules somewhere, though."

"That's a laugh," James said.  "I suspect most of our so-called rules are just made up.  We hardly ever get in trouble for breaking them, do we?"

"I bet it _is_ in the rulebook," Lily said mutinously.

"You bet, huh?"  James was suddenly much more interested.  "How much?"

"Oh," she said.  "Well, if I'm right, how about I get to make you do something stupid."

"Yeah, and if I'm right –"  James grinned ferally.

"Nothing immoral," Lily said firmly.

James's face fell.  "What, no strip poker?"

"Well, nothing _terribly_ immoral," she said.  "Are we agreed, then?"

They shook on it.  Then they went down to consult Hogwarts' rule book.

It was kept in a tiny room off the entrance hall, almost too tiny to fit James and Lily and the book, which itself was half as large as one of them and probably near as heavy.  Judging by the undisturbed rolls of dust on every surface, no one had been in here since Hogwarts was built.

"There had better the hell be a table of contents," James said, coughing loudly.  "Whose idiot idea was this in the first place?"

Lily ignored him and opened the book.  The title page was incomprehensible.  The only part either of them recognized was the signatures of the founders.

"Boy, Godric had really awful handwriting," James said, leaning down for a closer look.  "And hey, Helga couldn't write at all!  She just signed an X."  James sneered.  "The Hufflepuff tradition of academic excellence begins."

"It's in Old English," Lily said.  "We're never going to be able to read it."

"Well, slap me silly," James said.  "The girl's right.  So what now?"

"Remus could read it."

"True," said James.  "But we don't know where he is, and even if we could drag him off Rohanna, this room wasn't exactly built for three."

"What about a translation spell?"

"That'd be perfect," James said.  "However, that requires knowing a word in Old English, and you know, nothing really comes to mind."

"Marvelous," Lily said.  "Five billion rules and only five people in the entire school can read them."

They stared at the title in silence for a while, trying to figure out which one of the words said "Hogwarts."

"Listen," James said at last.  "I've got an idea.  Let's forget about this entire idiot thing and go back up to the dormitory so we can snog for a while before somebody bursts in on us."

"Well, okay," Lily said.  "But only if you put the lizard back in its cage."

"Yeah, all right."

"And get rid of the Fudge Flies," she added.  "Those things are positively sickening."

"Yes, darling."  James wondered if this was what marriage would be like, once the honeymoon was over.  Why was it called a honeymoon?  James didn't know.  Probably, he surmised grimly, it was the month during which you still called each other "honey."

They had the room to themselves for a record twenty-eight minutes before Sirius burst in with his robes on fire.

* * *

Sirius was sitting in his workroom, staring at a piece of parchment.  On it was the recipe for the Wolfsbane Potion, which if it worked properly would, while not preventing the werewolf's transformation entirely, at least render it harmless.  He had actually finished it three weeks earlier, when he still thought Remus hated him.  He still didn't know whether Remus hated him, but it hardly mattered because now he hated Remus.

But Sirius hated to do it.  He had after all spent six months digging up herbs, staining his fingers, melting his cauldrons and giving up his evenings for it, and all he had to show for it was this one rather scruffy bit of parchment.  Which Sirius then burned.

When it was finally gone, he gathered up all his instruments, his ingredients, cauldron, gloves, goggles and notes, and carried them all out, locking the door behind him.  He was through trying to save the world with his cauldron.

Sirius brought all his things back up to the dormitory, intending to lock them away in his armoire.  James, Lily and Peter were already there, involved in a heated debate.

"Sirius," James said.  "I was just about to come get you.  Read this if you would and give us your opinion."

Sirius took the piece of parchment James handed him and read it over.  It said, "Lily, I love you madly and have for ages, please tell me if you feel the same.  Yours, RJL."

Sirius looked up at them.  "Any idea what his middle name is?"

"I told you," James said to Lily.  "It has to be Remus."

"But he doesn't give a shit about me," she said.

"Actually –"  Sirius thought his voice sounded different, or maybe that was his heart beating.  Everyone was staring at him.  "Remus told me he liked you."

"When?"  James looked murderous.

"Ages ago, I think maybe in November…"

" 'I love you madly and have for ages,' " James repeated.  "What more proof could you possibly need?"

"I told you, Rohanna has the exact same initials," Lily said.  "She could have written these and signed them like that to make us think it was Remus."

"There's one way to find out," James said.  "Sirius, go get Remus."

"Why me?" he demanded.

"Because I said.  Just do it, okay?"

Sirius grumbled a bit, but he went.

First he tried the library.  They were nowhere to be found.  Then he went to the Astronomy tower; no luck there either.  Sirius went back to the library, bribed a Ravenclaw first year to tell him the password, and went to the Ravenclaw common room.  Remus was indeed there, sitting on a couch with Rohanna, and the entire common room went silent at the entrance of Sexy Sirius Black.

"James wants to see you," he said shortly.

Remus, an angry flush rising in his face, said something to Rohanna and followed Sirius out of the common room.  They went the whole way up to Gryffindor like that, Remus about half a dozen paces behind Sirius, naturally neither of them speaking.

Remus entered the dormitory looking (there was no other word for it) regal.  His color was still high and he seemed suddenly armored, beyond their power to hurt him.  "What is it?" he said.

James walked up to him, handed him the parchment.  "Read this."

Remus looked it over, then lifted up his head and said, "I can tell you right now I did not write this."

"Then who did?" James demanded.  "If not you."

"Sorry, I can't really help you there," he said.

"Do you love Lily?"

Remus drew in his breath and looked at Lily.  Her eloquent eyes wanted something from him.  What, he didn't know.  "I used to," he said, without looking away.  "Then she found out what I am – well, actually I told her – and that changed everything."

"That's not true," Lily said.  "I think just as much of you as I ever have."

"You as good as admitted to me it changed things," he said coldly.  "You apologized to me for it, or don't you remember?"

Lily's face closed.  "Of course I do," she said.  "It changed things for me, I'll admit that, but I can't see what it changed for you."

"I realized that I would never in all my life be good enough for you," Remus said.  "That's all."

"That doesn't prove anything," Sirius said harshly, because he saw that James wasn't about to; he seemed temporarily speechless.  "How about you tell us your middle name instead."

"I don't have one," he said evenly.

"You don't have one," Sirius said.  "How can you not have a middle name?"

"Some people don't," Remus said.  "I'm one of them, or rather became one when I changed my name.  Please don't tell me you've forgotten about that already."

Sirius looked ready to snap, but Peter interrupted, "What was your name before?"

Remus looked at him dispassionately, trying to decide whether to answer.  At last he said, "Charles Alexander Cagley.  The third."

Peter started to giggle, but he was the only one.

"What's Rohanna's middle name?" Sirius demanded.

Remus drew a quick sharp breath.  "Jane," he said.

"I told you," Lily said triumphantly.  "I knew that bitch was behind it somehow."

"Don't you dare call her that," Remus said and there was something in his voice that made Lily drop her wonderful eyes.

"But I suppose that's not her handwriting," Sirius said.  "Is it?"

Remus scanned the sheet again.  "No, of course not."

Sirius snatched it from his hands and looked it over.  "It seems to me," he said, "as if this is Remus's handwriting attempting not to look like Remus's handwriting, and none too well in my opinion."

"And if I was lusting after Lily," Remus said bitingly, "don't you think I would have found a slightly less amateurish way to tell her?  I personally think, for what it's worth to you, that someone did this trying to turn us against each other."

"And why would they have to do that?" Sirius yelled back.  "You already did, and I have to say it was a fantastic job."

"_I_ did it?" Remus said, shaking with rage.  "If I left it was because you made it pretty damn clear you didn't want me around."

"If Remus is right," James said quietly, and Sirius and Remus both jumped, "it's working to perfection."

Sirius glared, but there was nothing really to say.

"So here's what I think," James continued.  "Remus says he doesn't love Lily.  He says he didn't write the note.  Okay, but all of that hinges on one assumption, which is that Remus is telling the truth.  And lucky us, we have ways to find out if he is or not."

"James –" began Sirius.

"Let me finish.  The Veritas curse would work, but I think it's safe to say that none of us could do it, or would.  And there's Veritaserum."

"I can't make it," Sirius said.  "I mean, I might be able to brew it, but getting hold of the ingredients is near impossible, and buying it ready-made's worse."

"I'm not suggesting that," James said.  He was grinning.  "We're going to steal it.  Out of Dumbledore's office, in fact."

"You're mad," Sirius said flatly.

"I know, but there's no other choice," James said.  "Either we try this or we never find out."

"Or both of the above," Sirius said irritably, "if we get caught.  And believe me, we are going to get caught.  Without the map and your cloak, we haven't got a chance."

"Couldn't we just ask Dumbledore for it?" Peter said.  But this was so patently stupid that everyone, by tacit consent, ignored him.

"Sirius," said James, "we have to at least try."

"We?"

"You and I."

"Why?" Sirius said.  "For _him_?" jerking his head at Remus.

"Yes, for him," James said.  "On the off chance that he is, indeed, telling the truth."

"I won't do it for him," Sirius said.  "But I'll do it for you."

"Good enough," James said.  "And Remus, I hope for your sake you're telling the truth, because if I find out I'm putting myself on the guillotine for a traitor, I will make sure you writhe in torment for the rest of your days."

"I'm not too worried," Remus said.

* * *

The heist took place on the last day of May, a miserable end to a miserable month.  It had been raining all day and it showed no signs of relenting, even at ten o'clock that night when Sirius left the common room.  (He had insisted upon doing the job himself because, he'd said, "You're Head Boy.  I'm expendable.")  It was a Sunday night, and the corridors were empty but for the sound of the ceaseless drumming rain.  In altogether too short a time, Sirius reached the statue of the gargoyle.  Its arm had been repaired, but with a different color of stone, so that it looked as though it was wearing one elbow-length glove.

"Sunfish," Sirius said.  The gargoyle jumped aside and he mounted the stairs to the door of Dumbledore's office.  He pressed his ear against the wood, but all he could hear was the incessant rain beat.  Sirius stood back and sent a gust of sparks at the door, which sighed open.

And someone was already there.

"Filch?" said Sirius in astonishment, squinting into the murky room.  He lit his wand just in time to see Filch, hunched over Dumbledore's desk, jerk convulsively upright.

"That's Mister Filch to you," he snapped, fumbling something into his jacket pocket as he spoke.

"Is that a phoenix feather?" Sirius asked interestedly.  "Valuable, those are."

"Shut your mouth," Filch snapped.  "You happen yourself to be breaking eight school rules this very moment –"

Just then, Fawkes began to sing, but it was not his usual heart-swelling song.  It was more like a smoke alarm trying to sing an aria.  Within thirty seconds Dumbledore had entered the room, clad in a bathrobe and an absurd striped nightcap.

"Midnight visitors!" he said, looking delighted.  "May I ask which of my possessions proved irresistible this time, Argus?"

"Your phoenix feather quill," Filch said.  "Sir."  Reluctantly he handed it back to Dumbledore.

"An excellent choice," Dumbledore said.  "Is the medicine helping at all?"

"Some," Filch said.  "I only stole three things this week, sir."

"Marvelous.  You may go now."  Filch shuffled out of the room, casting a look of intense longing toward Dumbledore's whirling silver gadgets, and Dumbledore turned his attention to Sirius.

"And what are you after, Mister Black?"

"Veritaserum," he said.  "Sir."

"The truth," Dumbledore said.  "An even better choice.  You might, however, have asked first."

"Would you have given me any?"

"No," Dumbledore said, abysmally cheerful.

"I thought not."

"If you'll permit me to ask, what is it that you need to know so badly?"

Sirius looked at Dumbledore and decided to try the truth.  "Whether Remus likes Lily or not," he said.

"My dear boy," Dumbledore said, "any Slytherin first year could tell you whom Mister Lupin spends his time with, and it is not Miss Evans."

"Unfortunately," Sirius said, "it's not that simple."

"It rarely is," Dumbledore said.  "I must admit I would love to hear the story, but I don't think you're going to tell me."

"It isn't really mine to tell."

"Ah," Dumbledore said.  "Well, in that case –"

"Sir," interrupted Sirius, "will you sell me the Veritaserum?  I have a hundred eighty Galleons in my trunk."

"I can't," Dumbledore said.  "For two reasons.  First, and I'm sure you'll understand, possession of Veritaserum is closely regulated by the Ministry of Magic, and Azkaban would most definitely not be to your taste."

"Have you been there?" Sirius wanted to know.

"Yes," Dumbledore said shortly.  "Second, if I sold you the Veritaserum, I wouldn't have any, and that is rather the point of my keeping it here."

"But –"

"I suggest," Dumbledore said, "that you return to bed, before it occurs to me that Mister Filch was wrong, and that you are, in fact, breaking twelve school rules."

"Sleep well, Professor," said Sirius, and left.  It was still raining.

Back in the common room, James was waiting up for him.  When he saw Sirius enter empty-handed, his face fell.

"Damn it," he said.  "So what d'you have to do?"

"Nothing."  Sirius sat dejectedly on the arm of a chair.  "Which is also how much I got.  Dumbledore wouldn't even sell it to me."

"Gee golly," James said.  "You'd think he'd be glad for a few extra Galleons.  His pay must be miserable."

"I did learn something, though," Sirius said, brightening.  "Apparently Filch is a kleptomaniac."

"No!" James said gleefully.  "That's great news.  I bet that was where my enchanted rubber snake got to second year."

"I kept telling you I didn't take it," Sirius said sulkily, "and you never believed me."

"Speaking of which –"  James lowered his voice.  "What about Remus?"

"What about him?" Sirius said.  "As far as I'm concerned, he's guilty as Filch."

"We don't really have any proof of that," James pointed out.

"Besides the fact that it was signed with his initials, in his writing, _and_ he told me he loved Lily when he had no reason to lie about it."

"All right," James said.  "But how come you're so dead set against Remus?  What happened to you two practically going out?"

Siruis thought about it and realized that he didn't really know.  Sure, they'd said some nasty things to each other – well, what Remus said had been unforgivable.  Only right now, Sirius couldn't remember what that had been.  "He just happens to be a dirty lying tadpole, is all."

"Would this have anything to do with Rohanna?"

Sirius scowled.  "I will admit that his seceding from Gryffindor didn't exactly endear him to me."

James didn't say anything, just sighed.

"Well, what do you think of him?" Sirius demanded.  "Do you hate him?"

"I don't know."

"Do you think he wrote those letters?"

"I don't know," James snapped, "and I don't really want to know.  All I want is for Lily to stay with me forever.  So long as he doesn't mess that up, I don't care."

"Huh," Sirius said.  "If only my life was so simple."

The next day it still had not stopped raining.  The Care of Magical Creatures classes looked extremely miserable.  James had a good laugh at their expense, but it wasn't that funny, and it was really the best thing that happened all day.

After class, Sirius and James were in their usual spot by the fire, doing not much of anything, when Peter came over, breathless, clutching a copy of the _Daily Prophet._  "Read this," he directed, shoving it at Sirius.

Bemused, Sirius took it and followed Peter's finger to an announcement crammed in at the end of a column.  He glanced it over and went very red.  "That bastard," he hissed, shoving the paper at James.  He scanned the announcement, which read as follows:

Mr. Severus Snape yesterday became the youngest person ever to submit a potion to the Department for the Regulation of Experimental Magic.  His Wolfsbane Potion, designed to render a werewolf harmless during the full moon, will be analyzed and tested to determine whether it is safe for use by the public.

"That potion is mine," Sirius raged.  "Mine and that filthy crumb of lard is getting all the credit for it."

"You'll find that hard to prove," James said, rolling up the paper and returning it to Peter.

"Especially since I burnt my copy of the recipe," Sirius said morosely.

"I suppose you did it because you're mad at Remus," James said.  "Well then I have to say that you deserve this."

The worst of it was Peter agreed with him.


	11. Fidelis

Chapter 11 – Fidelis

Important note: Some of the lines in this chapter are almost direct quotes from _Prisoner of Azkaban_.  I did not make these up and I do not claim to, I am merely using them for effect. Thank you.

* * *

Sirius's ill-fated attempt to pinch some Veritaserum was more or less the end of school, and their friendship. A week afterwards, they graduated and it was a strange time. Sirius had learned many bizarre and difficult things during his seven years at Hogwarts, but the last and worst of them was learning that his time there was up forever. As a sort of tribute to the glorious stunts of their past, Sirius proposed that they pull one last prank, once their diplomas were well in hand of course, one final escapade to cement themselves firmly in Hogwarts lore. But James vetoed that idea.

"Please," he said. "We are so far beyond that sort of thing."

"Yes," Sirius agreed. "I know I feel so much more mature now than I did even a month ago."

So they graduated without the fireworks send-off Sirius had planned, but he did, at least, have the distinct pleasure of leaving Hogwarts, not with his parents or on the train, but on his wonderful shiny flying motorcycle.

He had purchased it five days earlier, practically the moment he had earned his two hundred five Galleons. The extra five he quietly, anonymously, returned to Remus. (Sirius refused to be beholden to him for any part of this marvelous machine.) So he bought it with his own money and James's and Peter's, and parked it in the abandoned garage where the other end of their secret tunnel let out.

The next night he took it around Hogsmeade and the surrounding countryside, which he enjoyed so much that he lost all track of time; when he returned it was technically already the next morning. By an unlucky chance, Filch happened to be in the vicinity when he emerged from the tunnel, so neither it nor the motorcycle was a secret any longer. Sirius escaped without punishment only by offering Filch a ride on the contraption, which in the caretaker's eyes was nothing short of a miracle. But for Sirius the pain of seeing his baby ridden by such a slimebag was well worth the benefit of graduating from Hogwarts with the rest of his year.

So the class of 1977 drowsed through three exceptionally long, tedious speeches, marched across the stage in alphabetical order, and sang the Hogwarts school song one last time, underneath the shining blue sky that Dumbledore had hired a Belgian weather mage to create specially for that day. (Considering the immensity of the task and the rarity of qualified weather mages, Sirius estimated that one day of fine weather probably cost as much as his seven years of tuition had. Which was quite a lot.)

They stayed until the following Saturday (the thirteenth) for the Leaving Feast and the awarding of the House Cup, which sadly went to Ravenclaw by a narrow margin.

"If only we'd won the fool Quidditch Cup," James sighed, watching the Ravenclaws celebrate.

"They only won it because they know the dates and the leaders of every goblin rebellion ever fought," Sirius said bitterly.

"Don't you think that's a bit hypocritical, Mister First-in-the-Class?" James said.

"Considering that you're tied with me for first, you ought to keep your voice down," Sirius said. "Although in my opinion they only tied us because you're Head Boy. You can't argue with the numbers."

"Can't I?" James said. "I propose we settle this the old-fashioned way – with a fistfight."

"Brilliant," Sirius said. "Brawling at the Leaving Feast."

"Well, what can they do to us?" James said. "Take away our diplomas?"

"I didn't hide mine all that well," Sirius said.

"Why, where is it?"

"I put it – er…" Sirius squinched up his face. "Now I think of it, I can't exactly remember."

"Hah," James said. "I expect that's a record. Lost your diploma in only six days, did you?"

"Be right back. Save me some cake, would you?" Sirius shoved his chair back and bolted out of the hall.

"I hope he doesn't pinch mine instead," James said to himself, cutting two pieces of cake and meditatively eating both of them.

So they left, Peter with his parents, James with his mother, Sirius on the motorcycle and Lily with her family. Even Petunia was there, looking especially offensive in a too-tight lavender dress.

"Stunning as usual, my beauteous blossom," James called. Lily winked and blew him a kiss, which Petunia only glared, looking twitchy as a rabbit, no doubt because of the flagrant evidence of abnormality all about her.

Sirius, grinning madly, clambered atop his motorcycle and took off. His slovenly hair whipping in the wind, he executed a tight curl around Gryffindor tower, to scattered applause and hooting from the graduates and their families.

"You about ready, Jimbo?" his mother said, patting her heavily hairsprayed orange curls. "Some of us do have to catch a train to get home."

So James said goodbye to Peter and shook hands with his parents, and slid off rather furtively across the wide glittering lawn.

Remus was talking intently to Rohanna, but as soon as he saw James, he turned with a great smile and said, "Hey, congratulations."

"To you too," James said, shuffling his feet. "I, er, just wanted to say goodbye."

"Well, bye then," Remus said. "And have a nice life."

He kicked himself for years about that.

And Hogwarts ended there, but Sirius was too absorbed to care. He and Peter rented a dingy flat in London and split the rent, not very evenly, because Peter's parents sent him more money in a week than Sirius earned in a month. Peter was half-heartedly attending Auror training and discovering that it wasn't quite so glamorous as he had hoped. Sirius liked to tell the girls he met in pubs that he worked at Petrovich Magichem Corp., one of the most respected firms in the business, but he frequently failed to mention that his was a grubby entry-level clerical job and not one of the prestigious research positions that he hoped to snag in six years or so. Five if he worked late.

James lived at home for most of the summer, in between Quidditch tryouts, until he finally settled on the Falmouth Falcons and, with his signing bonus, promptly rented a flat of his own, one much more respectable than Sirius and Peter's. Against the wishes of her parents, Lily moved in with James, mostly because her own meager salary as an assistant in Madame Malkin's was just about equal to the cost of renting the cheapest rooms in the city.

After about six weeks, Peter dropped out of Auror training altogether, which left him with no visible source of income except his parents' generosity. However, he always seemed to have plenty of cash, and Sirius asked no questions about it because it paid the rent just as well as his. Better, in fact. For his own part, Sirius spent the summer with a succession of girls he met in pubs, none of whom worked out. Perhaps, as James pointed out, this was because he met them in pubs. Sirius shrugged and bought a dragonhide ensemble to go with his motorcycle, which he could not show off for nearly two months because of all the overtime he was putting in to pay for it. It was a real hit with the girls, though.

That fall James was frequently traveling with the team, and when his games were too far for Lily to attend, she spent the evenings at Sirius and Peter's place. Sirius didn't mind this, but he did. It was one thing to see marvelous green eyes in the company of his best friend and another to see them in his flat. Besides, one or more of Peter's new friends was typically conked out on the couch, and Sirius didn't trust them, quite. They all had shifty eyes. But then, Auror training could do that to a person.

And Sirius got a pay raise. Peter got a girlfriend. So did Sirius. James won a few games, and when he got back, they had a celebratory soirée at James's much more respectable apartment, just the four of them. Just like old times.

So life went on as it always had, only with significantly more bills to pay.

* * *

A year had gone by since the Phenomenal Four had graduated, when James and Lily received identical letters from Albus Dumbledore requesting them to come to Hogwarts at their earliest convenience. He had some urgent news for them, it said.

"Well, darling, I imagine it's to inform us of our selection as Couple of the Year," James said to all her anxious inquiries. So he skipped a practice and she took a day off work, and since Lily didn't have her Apparition license, they made the trip north on James's old Flycatcher (he'd gotten a gleaming twig-straight Delphinium exclusively for Quidditch). It was a sultry mid-July day and James's only trouble was that the broom's Shielding Charm had weakened and collision with unwary birds was a constant danger.

But they arrived without incident and James landed right in front of the monolithic front doors, which had not much shrunk in a year's time. They went in and Nearly Headless Nick was waiting for them in the entrance hall. 

"Hope you haven't been waiting too long, Nick," said James as they set off for the headmaster's office.

Nick shrugged. "Three days is a very small percentage of eternity."

He gave them the password (the gargoyle's arm was once again the same color as the rest of it) and they went up to Dumbledore's office, where the headmaster greeted them with his ageless benevolent smile and a pot of mint tea. They sat around in armchairs sipping out of their mugs and catching up on old acquaintances. Dumbledore seemed particularly interested in hearing about Sirius and Peter.

"And have you seen Remus at all?" Dumbledore asked.

"Well, we did lose track of him after graduation," James said. "For quite a while in fact. It was just a few months ago that I ran into him at Flourish and Blotts entirely by accident."

"Buying something?"

"I was getting _Chaser Strategies from the Best in the Business_," James said. "I've no idea what he was after. Anyhow, I invited him over and he's been several times since –"

"What has he been doing with himself?" Dumbledore said.

"I couldn't really say," James admitted. "Somehow we always end up talking about me. Of course, he's always loved Quidditch. And then I don't like to ask about him. I mean, I know how things are for his kind, and I'd assumed he wasn't too well off or he would have invited us over." James sighed. "I wish I could get him to come more often but he won't. He doesn't want to run into Sirius, I think."

"Aren't they friends anymore?"

"No," James said, "I guess you wouldn't know about that. They had some kind of falling-out at the end of seventh year and Sirius just refused to have anything to do with him. As far as I know they haven't spoken since then."

"Sirius and Remus had a falling-out," Dumbledore said. "You weren't involved in it?"

"Er, well, maybe a bit," said James. "Sirius did seem to think I should be mad at Remus. He as good as said Remus was betraying Gryffindor because he spent so much time with Rohanna Lynch – you remember?"

It seemed he did. Dumbledore deposited a few more thoughts in his Pensieve before he looked up and said, "I think it is time now to tell you what I must." He set his wand down and folded his hands. "I hardly know how to tell you this, but – Voldemort is after you. Both of you."

Lily grabbed hold of James's hand.

"After us, meaning he wants to kill us?" James said.

"Well, yes," Dumbledore said, "if it helps you to think of it that way."

"Why?" said Lily. "What have we ever done to him?"

"Am I a Magid?" James said excitedly.

"No," Dumbledore said. "I'm afraid you're just a powerful and talented wizard."

"Aw, damn," James said, looking highly disappointed.

"Why then?" Lily asked.

"Unfortunately that involves a little history lesson." Dumbledore twiddled his fingers. "To borrow a phrase, Godric Gryffindor was concupiscent as a rabbit and I believe that altogether he had ten children or so. Living, that is."

"Wow," James said.

"His poor wife," Lily said.

"Oh, he never married," Dumbledore said. "His ten living children were borne him by five different women –"

"Wow," James said.

"But the ones we are concerned with are his six children by Sallina the prophetess," Dumbledore said. "Her eldest son Maglion married Shella the huntress, and her eldest daughter Eaglione married Zelgun the good-for-nothing, and the point of the story is that you, James, are a direct descendant of Maglion and you, Lily, are a direct descendant of Eaglione. The last wizarding ones, in fact."

"Wow," James said. "Now we know how much honor meant to old Godric, eh?"

"We're related?" Lily said. "Maybe we hadn't ought to order the wedding cake just yet, James."

"That was a thousand years ago," Dumbledore said. "I doubt anyone will accuse you of incest. But forgive me, that wasn't the point after all. The point is, because you two are the last direct wizarding descendants of Godric Gryffindor, Voldemort will certainly attempt to get rid of you at his earliest convenience."

"But why?" James said. "I mean, surely Voldemort doesn't care which founder we're descended from."

Dumbledore sighed. "There is a prophecy," he said, "but it's long and boring and you know what I think of Divination, but Voldemort believes in it so we have to play along."

"What's it say, then?"

"Well, Voldemort is Slytherin's heir," Dumbledore said. "I don't know if you knew that. Anyway, it says that if he doesn't destroy the heir of Gryffindor, then the heir will surely destroy him, in a history-repeating-itself sort of way."

"Heir?" James said. "There's two of us."

Dumbledore sighed again. For someone so intelligent, James could be rather obtuse at times. "If the two of you were to marry and have a child," he said, "that child would be the sole undisputed heir of Godric Gryffindor."

"Wait," James said. "You mean this prophecy is saying Lily and I are going to get married?"

"Not necessarily," Dumbledore said. "I suppose one of you might die."

James and Lily traded looks.

"You do have a rather high-risk job, dear," Lily said with a touch of glee.

"Let's get married then," James said. "Give Gryffindor his heir."

"If you do," Dumbledore said, "you and the child will be in considerable danger, you realize."

"Maybe in a few years," James said.

"I am not trying to tell you what to do," Dumbledore said, "or give you conflicting advice. In the event that you do decide to marry, come see me and we will discuss ways to help keep you safe."

"Marriage counseling for the pursued," said James. "How to keep your marriage together when the Dark Lord wants to break you up."

"There is that, yes," Dumbledore said somewhat reluctantly. "Would that I did not have to tell you this, but be careful of anyone who tries to come between you. Even your closest friends should not be exempt from your suspicion."

James thought suddenly of Sirius, and of Remus.

"I am also not trying to frighten you unreasonably," Dumbledore said. "Voldemort is otherwise occupied, and I doubt you are in very much danger at the moment. But as I said, be on your guard. And again, if you decide to marry or even if anything suspicious happens, do come to see me at any time of the day or night. I assure you, my rest is not nearly as important as your safety. And if it is important, do not trust it to an owl. They have been known to disappear mysteriously en route."

Dumbledore stood up to see James and Lily out; they shook hands with him and thanked him profusely.

"Er," James said. "I have another question, actually."

"Of course," Dumbledore said.

"How do you know all this? I mean, you're not a spy or anything, are you?"

"Oh no," Dumbledore said. "I'm far too old for that sort of thing."

"So how do you know?"

"Why, my dear boy," Dumbledore said, "I read minds, of course. But surely you knew that?"

"I always suspected as much," James said.

* * *

Just like you knew they would, Lily and James decided, to hell with Voldemort and all his minions, let's get married anyway. Once James had gotten Lily a ring, they went back to see Dumbledore, Lily twirling her diamond and both of them smiling blissfully. Dumbledore congratulated them and advised them to go into hiding. He told them that their best chance was the Fidelius Charm, which Lily, as the adept on charms, had to explain to James.

Dumbledore also gave them some more advice. He said that the longer the Secret-Keeper was under the Fidelius Charm, the harder it was for him to keep the secret. Eventually (though Dumbledore assured them it generally didn't happen for twenty years or so) the Secret-Keeper reached a point where he either had to tell someone or die, in a rather nasty way which gave new meaning to the term, "bursting" with a secret. So Dumbledore advised them to wait as long as they felt comfortable until performing the Fidelius Charm. He also advised that they move to a small town using different names, and that they keep their wedding as quiet as possible.

Which they did. Only about twenty people were invited, mostly relatives of the couple, and every one of them was sworn to secrecy about the wedding. Dumbledore came, of course, and brought Minerva McGonagall. Lily's mother had recently died, but her father came and so did Petunia, who was the maid of honor. Lily's friend from Hogwarts, Samantha, was a bridesmaid, Sirius was best man and Peter was a groomsman. Remus was also there, though not in the wedding party, which had been a subject of some discussion.

When James had asked Sirius if he would agree to have Remus in the wedding party, Sirius had said stiffly, "Far be it from me to tell you who you can and cannot have stand up with you." James brought the problem to Remus, who said, "I'm honored that you'd ask me, but my budget's a bit tight at the moment and anyway, Sirius would be a lot more comfortable if I didn't."

So that was one problem solved, and though there were a thousand others, it was the main one. And on October 30, 1979, James Potter and Lily Evans were married in a simple ceremony in her parents' home, with an appropriately orange sunset sky.

"Halloween Eve!" Sirius said, holding up his glass of champagne. "Remember all the fun we used to have drinking butterbeer and running around Hogsmeade? Now those were the days."

"You sound like a geezer," James said. "But here's to Hogwarts anyway." The entire table drank to it, except for Petunia, who was frowning at her glass and looking highly uncomfortable.

So they reminisced for a while, and ate quite a lot (Sirius most of all) and when it was dark, Lily's father plugged in the Christmas lights and they danced to Muggle and wizarding tunes alike. Her husband and his friends were fully occupied, either with dancing or liquor, so Lily took the opportunity to do a little snooping about Remus. 

Naturally, she was quite curious as to what he had been doing with his life, but even though she asked him every nosy question she could think of, Lily found out almost nothing she couldn't have guessed. Remus wasn't in love, but he was happy. He was living in London now, but he'd done some traveling, all over Britain. When Lily asked him what he did for a living, he replied, "Whatever I can, and usually not much of that." She did, however, find out that what he wanted most in the world was to live in France.

"But that's hardly news," she said irritably to James when it was all over. "He's wanted to ever since I've known him, anyway."

"And long before that," James said. "Listen, sweetheart, Remus's life is his own damn business and if he doesn't want to tell you about it, you probably don't want to know. Now come over here and rub my shoulders, would you? They hurt like the devil."

So James and Lily spent two weeks on the Côte d'Azur for their honeymoon, and when they came back they bought a house (no more than a cottage, really) in Godric's Hollow, an upscale little development in suburban London.

"How adorable," James said to Lily. "Gryffindor's two heirs are living in a housing development named after him."

"But it's such a _sweet_ little place," Lily said.

"Oi," Sirius yelled from the ground floor. "Where d'you want the stove?"

"In the kitchen, you galloping great prat," James yelled back. "Where did you think?"

"No, I mean do you want it by the ironing board or next to the garage door," Sirius yelled. "Because there's nowhere else to put it."

"His bloody incompetence is going to kill me," James said, stomping downstairs. But Lily followed him down and discovered that Sirius was right.

"We could always eat in the living room," she suggested, peering into the kitchen. She couldn't actually enter it because James, Sirius and the furniture took up all the available standing room.

"She has a point," Sirius said.

"Oh, all right," James said in exasperation. "Just yank my husbandly authority out from under my feet."

"We won't do it unless you say so, love," Lily reminded him.

"Fine, we eat in the living room, let's move."

"He's so authoritative," Lily said dreamily. "Isn't he?"

"Oh be quiet," James said, looking rather pleased.

But eventually, James and Lily got their house in order and nine months later, there was a baby. Harry Joseph Potter, to be exact. (Joseph was James's middle name.)

When James and Sirius came in to see Lily in her room in the St. Mungo's maternity ward, she was holding a tiny red squalling bundle and looking ecstatic about it.

"I bet you're glad he's out of there, huh," Sirius said.

"You have no idea," Lily said. "James, from now on, all our children are going to have May birthdays."

James was shaking his head in astonishment. "Will you look at that hair," he said.

"Why, it looks exactly like yours," Sirius said, faking astonishment. "Or rather, what yours is going to look like in twenty years, once it thins out a little."

James punched him in the shoulder. "I think it looks great."

"Sirius, we have a favor to ask of you," Lily said, looking significantly at James.

"Oh yeah," James said. "Two of them, actually, but I think we'd better soften him up with the one first."

"All right," Lily said. "Sirius, we've thought about this a lot, and we want to ask you if you'll be Harry's godfather."

"Oh, wow," Sirius said, grinning hugely. "Er, what does that involve, exactly?"

"Well," Lily said, "mostly you buy him presents on Christmas and his birthday."

"Free baby-sitting for life," James interrupted.

"His, or mine?" Sirius said, looking faintly alarmed.

"And you're stuck with him if we die," James said.

"No problem," Sirius said. "I mean, even if you catch a Bludger to the head, that still leaves Lily."

"And that brings us to our next request," James said.

"I suppose you want your ashes scattered on a Quidditch field somewhere," Sirius said. "I'll take you anywhere you want, but please don't make me do the eulogy."

"That's not it exactly," James said. "Lily, would you tell him?"

So Lily explained to Sirius about Voldemort, and why he might want to kill them sometime in the future (particularly Harry) and about the Fidelius Charm.

"And we wanted to know if you'd be our Secret-Keeper," Lily said, "but –"

"Yes," Sirius said.

"You're crazy," James said flatly.

"You haven't even heard about what happens when you keep the secret too long," Lily said. "Don't you want to know that before you say yes?"

"No," Sirius said. "It'll only give me nightmares."

"You can take some time," James said. "You know, to think about whether you want to die or not. We wouldn't do it for a while anyway, so you could have some time to decide –"

"No," Sirius said. "I've already thought about it, and I've already decided. The answer is yes."

"Oh, Sirius," James said. "I had no idea you thought so much of us."

"Yes you did," Sirius said. "I distinctly remember telling you that I would die for you if I had to."

"I thought you were joking," James said.

Sirius grinned. "How I enjoy proving you wrong."

"Well," James said, "I have to admit, I am absolutely lost for words."

"Oh, Sirius, thank you," Lily said and began to cry. Harry joined in, bawling ferociously.

"Moody kid you've got there," Sirius said to James. "Though I'd say those aren't your genes at work."

"Sirius," James said, "I don't know how to thank you."

"I haven't done anything to deserve it yet," Sirius said. "How about you wait and see how well I die."

For the next fourteen months or so, Sirius threw himself into the role of godfather. When he wasn't working or sleeping, he was over at James and Lily's playing with Harry. Singing to Harry until James told him to be quiet or he'd ruin the baby's sense of pitch for life. Instructing Harry on the care and maintenance of a broomstick. Feeding Harry everything from mashed pumpkin to marshmallows whenever he thought he could get away with it. For a while, Harry was in real danger of growing up to be a miniature Sirius Black. Peter might have helped, but he came only infrequently. He said he'd gotten another job, and he hardly spent any time at home, much less playing with a one-year-old carbon copy of James, who just happened to have Lily's unforgettable eyes.

So Sirius was babysitting Harry when James and Lily returned from a meeting with Dumbledore one October day to tell Sirius that Voldemort was doing some final tinkering with the details of their death.

"We've got to put the Fidelius Charm on," James said. "And soon. Are you free tomorrow?"

"Listen," Sirius said, joggling Harry on his knee nervously. "I had an idea."

"Okay," James said, frowning. "Let's hear it."

"Suppose you were Voldemort," Sirius said, joggling faster. "Suppose you knew James and Lily Potter were hiding from you, and they were under the Fidelius Charm."

"But he doesn't," James said. "No one knows about this but Dumbledore and us."

"Suppose you're Voldemort," Sirius said. "Suppose you have spies on every street corner and other nasty ways of finding out things people don't want you to know. So you find out this way that James and Lily Potter –"

"All right," James said irritably. "What next?"

"Suppose you really, really want to find them and the only way you can do that is by getting the Secret-Keeper to spill. So now you have to find the Secret-Keeper. And you know a little something about the Potters. Now, who would you go after first?"

James said, "Well –"

"Me, of course," Sirius said. "I mean, who's your best friend in the entire world? Who spends practically every day over here changing your kid's diapers?"

"So what're you suggesting?" James said tensely.

"Use Peter instead."

"Peter?" James said. "Okay, you have a point, you are rather the obvious choice, but if it comes to that, I would much rather have you guarding the lives of my family than Peter."

"Right," Sirius said. "But if you use Peter and they go after me first, that buys you time. You and Peter both, to get out of the country, or go hide in the basement or whatever."

"And in the meantime, you get interrogated," Lily said. "Probably forever, because they won't find out anything if you die."

"My comfort isn't the topic under discussion," Sirius said dismissively. "That's for me to worry about. The question is if you three are going to make it, which is much more likely if you use Peter."

"I still don't like this," James said.

"Listen," Sirius said. "It's a bluff. The perfect one, in fact. If Voldemort thought about it for half a second, he'd realize that I'm the logical choice, just like you did. That you'd use Peter would never occur to him, because no one in their right mind would want to. That's the beauty of it."

"But –" James seemed to be struggling for words. "Peter's a wimp! He'll never make it. He'll start babbling the minute they pull out their wands."

"He was in Gryffindor, if you recall," Sirius said scathingly. "And the Sorting Hat is way more perceptive than we are. I'd say that when he needs to be, Peter's just as brave as you are."

"Couldn't we use Remus then?" James said.

Sirius's face twisted. "He probably puts Voldemort's slippers on for him," he said shortly.

So that was the end of that, but James and Sirius continued to argue about it for almost a week, Lily having told them that she would do whatever James thought best. Finally James decided to ask Peter, and if he agreed, to go ahead with it. So he asked, and Peter said yes he would, and on the twenty-sixth of October, James, Lily, Harry and Peter said goodbye to Sirius. They were going north to Hogwarts so Dumbledore could perform the charm.

Afterwards Peter was going to go straight to his hiding place, a condemned farmhouse in a town twenty miles away that they'd fixed up enough so it wouldn't collapse, and filled the pantry with enough food to last him a year. James and Lily were going to write their will, just in case, and put it with all their money in their Gringotts vault. Their second anniversary was in four days and they were going to go out to eat somewhere while Sirius watched Harry. Sirius was going to get them something really splendid, he just didn't know what yet. There were four days left, after all, and he was going shopping the next day.

The secret was nothing special, really. Not surprising that a couple would sleep together before they cut the wedding cake, but they'd decided to get married right away and Lily'd been taking her potion, and they'd never told anyone about it. Not until now, anyway. So they told their secret to Peter and Dumbledore came in to finish the charm. It was deceptively easy, so much so that James asked Dumbledore if it was done and the headmaster, twinkling, said yes. He wished James and Lily a happy anniversary and Peter good luck, tickled Harry and told them to be careful. And they left.

Then something happened on Halloween. If you want to know what it was, re-read your copy of _Prisoner of Azkaban_ for the definitive account. I have nothing to say about it that you couldn't guess. Except for this: The next day wizards and witches the world over knew exactly who Harry Potter was, and James and Lily Potter, and Peter Pettigrew, and Sirius Black. But it would be nearly seventeen years before they knew the truth of what happened.


	12. Paradise

Chapter 12 – Paradise

Important note: Some of the lines in this chapter are almost direct quotes from _Prisoner of Azkaban_.  I did not make these up and I do not claim to, I am merely using them for effect. Thank you.

* * *

So James and Peter were gone, and Sirius, but Remus was still there and he wished he could thank them for casting him out, for if they had not, he might have gone down with them.  As it was, he was the only one of them still in the world and he had paid his blood-price for it.  Werewolves had a marginal place in society at best and Remus soon toughened himself against the inevitable, the life of his kind that he had learned first from a textbook.  Then he moved to France.  It was not exactly the one he'd pictured all his life, but no country was free from squalor and vice and besides, he could see the Eiffel Tower from where he slept.  That, at least, was just as he'd imagined.

Remus had been there nearly a year when a miracle happened: He applied for a teaching position at Beauxbatons and was accepted.  So he spent his final franc on three sets of presentable robes and arrived in Poitiers with nothing else, except a packing case to carry them that was labeled _Professor R. J. Lupin.  It had been mysteriously delivered to him several years back, after he'd been turned down by three or four American wizarding schools.  The enclosed note had read, in an unfamiliar hand, "The __J stands for jackass."  Remus used it to carry his things with him from town to town.  It had served him well; Remus wished he knew who had sent it, so he could thank him properly.  Or her._

So Remus taught la Défense contre les Forces du Mal, and he ate and slept and graded papers and smiled every so often.  It was paradise, and he would have stayed there forever if he had not stopped by the library one day to read _The Daily Prophet (Beauxbatons had a subscription), and he had not flipped to the help wanted section, and he had not seen an advertisement for a Defense against the Dark Arts teacher.  Apply in person, Hogwarts Castle._

Remus went, and learned several things he had not known.  Primarily what had become of Harry Potter.  No one in the wizarding world had seen or heard anything of The Boy Who Lived for ten long years, except of course for the occasional witch or wizard who claimed to have spotted him on the Underground, at the zoo or on the street.  Then Harry started at Hogwarts, perhaps the only first year in the school's history whose Sorting merited a front-page article in the _Prophet.  That was most of what Remus knew about James's son, but Dumbledore brought him up to date.  Remus also learned about a recent discovery called the Wolfsbane Potion, which would allow him to keep his mind when he transformed, and which Severus Snape the Potions master would prepare for him._

And there was Sirius, shining once more for him.  "Remus," he said, "I'm going to make you a potion to cure lycanthropy, and I'm going to name it after you."

"Liar," Remus said.  "Traitor," and he shoved Sirius away, hard, so he could hear Dumbledore.

"We need you here, Remus," he said and Remus realized he could not remember the last time someone had said those words to him.  "You probably hadn't heard, but – you know Gilderoy Lockhart?"

"I knew him at Hog – at school," Remus said.  "He published some books, didn't he?"

"Well, he certainly didn't write them," Dumbledore said.  "Not only could he not banish a banshee to save his soul, he was a rather poor teacher as well."

"He taught Defense?" Remus said, stunned.  "He must have been a real asshole."

Dumbledore smiled brightly.  "It's going to be a pleasure working with you, Professor Lupin."

So Remus was back at Hogwarts, and it was paradise.  He drank pumpkin juice for the first time in ten years, and he had not one but two rooms all to himself with windows that closed, and he got to meet Harry.

There was no mistaking him, not for someone who'd lived with James, done his homework and listened to him snore for seven years.  But the look on Harry's face when he'd awakened – it was Lily, God help him, and Remus had just blown the world out from under her feet.  Remus didn't know if he could do it, stand in front of the class and watch James and Lily live and die twice a week.

But it was easier than Remus had feared, because Harry wasn't James and he wasn't Lily but somehow, miraculously, more than both of them.  And Ron and Hermione, bless their hearts, were nothing like Sirius and Peter.  Only, when Harry got too close to the dementors, he could hear them.  It was the first Remus had known about that day, and how it had happened.  James had tried to take on Voldemort himself, to give Lily time to run for it.  Remus pictured them in that saggy cardboard box they called a house, James standing in the absurdly narrow front hall, pulling his wand out of the faded old Hawaiian-print boxers he always used to wear to bed.  God, how Voldemort must have stared.

"You heard James?" Remus asked Harry, trying valiantly not to laugh.  Harry might not appreciate the humor of the situation, after all.

"Yeah," Harry said.  The kid's eyes were so green they looked like go on a stoplight.  "Why – you didn't know my dad, did you?"

"I – I did, as a matter of fact," Remus said.  James held out a piece of parchment for him to read.  "We were friends at Hogwarts."

It was funny, really.  If it hadn't been for the hair, Remus might have suspected Lily of running around on James.  As it was, the fact that his friend the arrogant bastard was the father of such a humble, appealing kid was already straining credibility.

So it wasn't hard for Remus to forgive Harry his parents.  There was something about his diffident heroism that stirred faint echoes of the way things used to be.  That was why Remus saved his ass from Snape.  That, and the fact that Snape was a relentless bastard and getting one up on him was worth every one of Snape's slurs about Remus's ancestry and abilities.  And there were a lot of them.

But there, too, was the Map.  A piece of his past sitting on Severus Snape's desk – could he have done anything that meant leaving it there?  Snape had no right to it, though he plainly had some idea of its virtues.  Neither did Harry, no matter how he'd managed to purloin his dad's masterwork.  But Remus thought, over and over, that he should have left them to Snape, the map and Harry both.  Harry had to learn that his life was purchased at a higher price than the others, regardless of what Remus thought of James, and getting him off scot-free didn't seem quite the way to go about it.  But Remus knew, in some place beyond his personal illusions, that Harry had a kind of respect for him, however little he'd done to merit it, and a word from him would do more good than five hours scrubbing the floor of Snape's dungeon with a toothbrush, or whatever sorts of antiquated torture Snape inflicted on the students unlucky enough to receive detention from him.  So Remus told himself.

Then one night Remus forgot to take his potion, and he saw Sirius again.  He caught all the wands without even looking at them because his eyes were fixed on Sirius.  Who somehow had not killed Peter after all.

"Where is he, Sirius?" said Remus.

Sirius pointed at Ron, but Remus did not take his eyes from Sirius's face.  Then Remus realized how it had really been.  And Sirius nodded.

That was enough to make it all worth it.  His confession, his resignation and Peter's escape together did not mean more than Sirius did.  It was a paralyzing thought.

After that, Remus left the country.  He went back to Beauxbatons, but they had already found a better candidate for the Défense position, so Remus became the groundskeeper.  He could see why Hagrid had stayed on at Hogwarts so long; it was far less demanding than teaching and he had a hut all to himself.  It was paradise.

Then one midnight in early July, a year after he'd left Hogwarts, Remus was mopping the floor when he heard a knock on the door, and he went to answer it.  It was Sirius.

"Are you doing bloody housework?" Sirius said.  "Merlin, don't you ever sleep?"

"Come on in," Remus said.  "Just be careful where you step."

Sirius was a stranger now.  He was not the Quidditch water boy and he was not the spy that Remus had brought himself to hate.  Remus supposed that he, too, was no longer the bright-haired golden boy of Hogwarts.  Too much had happened since then.

"Er," Remus said.  "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Okay," Sirius said.

They sat down at Remus's miniature table with identical mugs of steaming tea and tried not to look at each other.

"So," Remus said at last.  "I don't mean to be rude, but why are you here?  You don't just come by to chat at midnight."

Sirius smiled sadly.  "What have you heard about the Triwizard Tournament?"

"Only what was in the Prophet," Remus said.  "I can't believe Harry won, that's incredible."

"You're right," Sirius said, and told Remus everything else.

Remus closed his eyes.  "Oh God," he said.  "Cedric.  And Voldemort, and – oh God."

"That night – after Harry got back, Dumbledore told me – he wanted me to get the old crowd together."

Remus frowned.  "You mean the Gryffindor gang our fifth year?"

"That's right," Sirius said.  "Of course, the only ones left now are you, me, Arabella, and Mundungus."

Remus nodded, thoughtfully.

"But I don't know what he expects us to do.  I mean, what use could I possibly be?"

Sirius said it with a touch of bitterness that Remus had thought uniquely his own.  But he could think of no reply, so the silence stretched out, and they fiddled with their mugs for a while, and then both of them tried to talk at once.

"You first."

"No, you."

"Just say it, okay?"

"Fine."  Sirius sighed.  "I treated you like shit seventh year –"

"Yes," Remus nodded, "you certainly did."

Sirius scowled.  "Thank you for not making the truth any easier on me.  So I was an immature little twerp and I – I can't believe I did that to you –"

"Sirius –"

"No," he said, "if you stop me now I'm never going to say it.  I couldn't see it then, but I was throwing away the best thing I ever had and then I thought that you – that you were –"

"In bed with Voldemort," Remus said dryly.

"Er," Sirius said, looking nonplussed.  "Yeah.  Remus, I am so sorry for everything I've done, will you please try not to hate me?"

Sirius looked so contrite, so like the Sirius of yesterday that Remus grinned.  "Sirius, I could never turn you down, you know that."

Sirius smiled, slowly.  "Good, because I need somewhere to sleep tonight and I see you have a stretch of floor that you aren't using."

Remus laughed.  "I'd hug you, but you know how that goes."

"Well," Sirius said.  "It didn't seem to matter much to you before."

Remus froze, his brain buzzing.  _Before what?_

"In the Shrieking Shack, you dolt," Sirius said and Remus was relieved to see that he was smirking.  "You hugged me in front of Harry, Ron, Hermione and Peter, who need I add used to think we were as gay as the eighteen-nineties."

"As I recall," Remus said, "it was you who hugged me in the Shrieking Shack, not the other way around."

"Was it, you shameless liar?" Sirius said.  "Face it, Remus, you've wanted to get your hands on me for eighteen years, and God knows I looked good enough to eat, that night."

Remus got up, went around the table, and gave Sirius a hug.

Sirius jumped at his touch and Remus thought incoherently, there was the touch of Azkaban on him.

"I missed you," Remus said into his shoulder.

Sirius hugged him back.  "I missed you too," he said in a strangled voice.  "You louse."

"Oh, stop it," Remus said.  "You're going to make me cry."

* * *

Sirius stayed at Remus's place for another month or so, and just as they were learning to live with each other again, Dumbledore summoned them, along with Arabella and Mundungus, to Hogwarts.  He had some news for them.

"Remus," said Dumbledore, "you have just been appointed interim headmaster of Beauxbatons."

Remus scrubbed at his eyes with the heel of his hand.  "Excuse me, sir, I think I drifted off for a minute.  Could you –"

Sirius jabbed him in the ribs.  "You heard him perfectly well the first time, you fool.  Now thank Dumbledore for getting you such a cushy job."

"The Beauxbatons board of directors, not I, deserves your thanks," said Dumbledore blithely.  "But they will be more likely thanking you instead.  After all, with Madame Maxime on an indefinite leave of absence, a qualified replacement really will be necessary.  And Sirius –"  Dumbledore fixed him with gimlet eyes.  "I assure you that there is more to this job than eating candy and counseling troubled adolescents."

Arabella bit down a giggle.  Mundungus began twiddling his thumbs.

"But," Sirius said, "if you promote Remus, then which poor schmuck is going to get saddled with the gamekeeper job?  No offense, good friend," he added to Remus, who was still looking stupefied.

Dumbledore gave Sirius an evil, curly smile that would have swelled the Grinch's shrunken little heart with pride.  "Why, you are," he said.

Sirius gawped.  Arabella finally gave up and started giggling wildly.  Mundungus shifted in his seat.  Remus finally regained the use of his senses.

"I can give you lessons," he offered but relapsed into silence at the look Sirius gave him.

Sirius turned a milder version of it on Dumbledore.  "You mean he's my boss?" Sirius demanded, jerking his thumb at Remus.

"Well," Dumbledore said, "I suppose so."

"How is he any more qualified than I am?"

"Let me see."  Dumbledore turned his eyes up to the ceiling.  "He has spent four years as a teacher, and an excellent one at that.  Also, he speaks French.  You don't."

Sirius now looked horrified.  "I have to learn French?"

"I can give you lessons," Remus offered.

"_Un_believable," Sirius said, shaking his head.

"Arabella," said Dumbledore, "the Defense position at Hogwarts is vacant once again and I would like for you to fill it."

Arabella shut up laughing promptly.  "Of course, Albus."

"Mundungus, with Hagrid gone, we will need a gamekeeper and a Care of Magical Creatures professor.  I trust the task won't offend you too much?" Dumbledore inquired, his lips twitching.

"Not at all," Mundungus said stiffly.

"Very well.  Mundungus, Arabella, your tasks are fairly obvious.  But Remus and Sirius, you two must be my liaison to the French Ministry of Magic."  They were expecting a visual X-ray, but Dumbledore just sighed and looked at them.  "France and Britain have fought each other often enough in the past.  I have no wish to see it happen again."

When Dumbledore dismissed them, Sirius and Remus left together.  They were halfway down the hall when Sirius kicked the base of a statue and said, "I don't believe it."

"Sirius, being gamekeeper isn't so bad –"

"He _trusts_ me," Sirius said.  "Me, a convicted criminal, the biggest screw-up ever to come out of Hogwarts, he gives me France and says here, I know you can do it."  

Remus was horrified to see tears shining in Sirius's eyes.  "You're innocent," he said harshly.  "Remember?  And I think Hogwarts has seen bigger screw-ups.  Two that I know of."

Sirius put his hand on the wall and turned his face from Remus.  "Will you teach me how to speak French?" he asked in a thin voice.

"_Ouais," Remus said.  "_Ouais, je le lui apprendrai_." ¹_

Sirius looked up at him with misty eyes.  "I have no idea what you just said, but I don't think it was no."

"Sirius," said Remus, "you're going to be brilliant at this."

* * *

In April of Harry Potter's seventh year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, he disappeared.  So did Voldemort, on the same day.

Remus had known something would happen.  He had never taken Divination, never even looked twice at the dregs of his tea, but it was April thirteenth, and he had a history with that date.

Sirius went off the deep end, godfather-style, when he heard.  He Flooed straight to Hogwarts, presumably to storm around Dumbledore's office and assure Ron and Hermione that Harry was just off fighting the forces of evil somewhere, and of course he'd be back for the last Quidditch match.

Ravenclaw beat Gryffindor soundly, but neither team seemed to care.

Graduation day was miserable.  Dumbledore had not hired a weather-mage and even the sky was weeping for Harry Potter.  Dumbledore was reading off the graduates' names as they trooped across the stage alphabetically for their bit of parchment.  After Sally-Ann Perks had clomped down the steps, Dumbledore gave a petite cough and announced, "Harold Joseph Potter."

Five seconds went by, then ten.  One of the graduates stifled a sob; it sounded like Hermione.  Remus wondered viciously if Dumbledore expected Harry to come prancing across the field with a magical sword in one hand and Voldemort's dripping head in the other.  Sirius, next to him, was rigid as rotting metal.  Remus wanted to put his hand on Sirius's arm to make sure he was still alive, but he was afraid that Sirius might disintegrate under his touch.

At the end of a minute, Dumbledore picked up the scroll and recommenced reading in that sonorous death-chime of a voice.  It felt like the last sunset.  Sirius hid his face in his hands and now Remus did touch him, gripped his shoulder and whispered, "If you cry, I swear to God I'll kill you with a kitchen appliance."

Sirius's laughter strangled his sob and he sat up again.  "Bastard," he whispered, trying to regain control of his face.

Remus transferred his hold to Sirius's forearm.  And smiled.

"I love you," Sirius said quietly.

That caught Remus by surprise.  "_What did you say?_" he hissed, so loudly that three rows turned around to glare at him.

"You heard me."

"But you…"  Remus gulped and tried again.  "You mean you weren't lying?"

"When?"

"When you said you loved me."

"I never said I loved you," Sirius said, "and I never wanted in your robes.  I still don't, so you can stop looking like that."

"Good."  Remus relaxed a bit.  "But then…"

"Love?" Sirius said.  "I don't know.  But you've been there for me forever, and I…"

"Shh!" said an old crone with blue hair two rows back.  "Show some respect, you mongrels."

Sirius and Remus exchanged slow smiles.

Up on the stage, Dumbledore rolled up his parchment and winked at them.

"I will never understand," Sirius said irritably, "why he didn't teach Divination instead."

* * *

Peter Aurelius Pettigrew went on trial before the Ministry on June 17, 1998.  His testimony cleared Sirius of any wrongdoing, which was doubtless the last great injustice of Peter's life.

Now that Sirius was a free man, he and Remus moved back to England.  For convenience' sake, they decided to share living quarters.  Otherwise, as Remus pointed out, Sirius would never do the housework if left to his own devices.  They lived in relative peace for about a month, at the end of which twin owls arrived _chez Black and Lupin, and their lives changed once again._

That fall at Hogwarts, there were some considerable changes in the faculty, as follows: Remus Lupin was teaching Ancient Runes.  Severus Snape was teaching Defense against the Dark Arts.  And Sirius Black was teaching Potions.

Several of his female students promptly fell in love with Sirius, who rather hoped he had not been so obvious about the same malady in his own student days.  Also, staff meetings had become vastly more entertaining.  At one point, Dumbledore actually suggested selling tickets to them, a suggestion that was unanimously voted down.

"Alas," Dumbledore sighed.  "We might have made such a killing."

* * *

THE END

¹ "Yeah, I'll teach it to you."


End file.
